


A Komahina Collection

by Eve6262



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Just a bunch of random stuff I write, Komahina - Freeform, M/M, Possible Kamukoma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 27,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eve6262/pseuds/Eve6262
Summary: Where I put my Komahina stuff. It may range from smut, to fluff, to angst, to whatever. Except cringe. I highly doubt cringe will be here, unless you don't like my writing.
EDIT - I decided I should update this to say, there's no smut. As an asexual, I have no fucking clue or drive to figure out just how sex works.





	1. Heartbreak Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> I've re-written this probably a thousand times, and yet I still feel the need to do it again.

You knew what would happen, yet you still let yourself go.

 

“Nagito!” He ran up to you, his pace infinitely faster than your own. Turning around, you almost lost yourself in the bright, piercing emerald eyes staring at you. “Let’s hang out.” He was slightly out of breath, the familiar tie on his shirt bouncing ever so slightly. “Hm? Hajime, are you alright?” A confused look crossed his features, not sure what you mean. The way the tips of his lips turned at a slightly different angle than the rest of his mouth was enchanting; if he had not spoken, you feared you would have been unintentionally entranced. “What do you mean?” His looks were amazingly cute; yours were less than acceptable, in your opinion. “Why would you want to spend time with trash like me?” A somewhat troubled sigh preceded his words, each like the enchanting music of a mermaid’s lyre. “Just...” Shrugging, you decided to take matters into your own hands; your own voice sounded like a recorder, the notes in complete discord. “If you insist, then I shall do my best to entertain you.” The smile of an angel was followed by the hand of a god; you simply followed, trying your best to give interesting topics and thoughts as conversation. It was simple to find what he liked; in fact, you already knew what he liked to talk about, and what he hated.

 

Your feelings were your downfall, weren’t they?

 

Hajime laughed hysterically, while you were confused. The melody was appeasing, yet a bit different of a tone you preferred; its source was questionable, as you’d just entered the room. A confused look was on your face as you suddenly realized the laughter resulted from; a large fountain of water poured down directly in front of you, with a few pieces of ice mixed in. The pink-haired mechanic in the corner bashed his head against the table, while the brown-haired boy looked over to you. None of you had realized it, however, the sudden contact of your head against the wall made you realize you were falling; a large piece of ice had landed itself upon your head, and caused you to jump backwards. The brunette’s look turned from a comedic enjoyment to one of concern, going over to you almost immediately. “Hey, are you okay?” You attempted to get up; instead, your vision darkened. Still a bit dazed, you commented almost inaudibly. “Huh?” Your vision went black; the distant sound of Hajime calling to you was the only thing you could sense.

 

You thought you were safe; you weren’t.

 

A foreign, feminine voice sounded from the lobby. “Oh my god, Hajime~” She seemed slightly ditsy, yet also somewhat quiet. In other words, the choice personality for Hajime’s partner. “Haha, sorry.” A disgusting sigh escaped from your lips, the sound hanging in the air. You were about to enter when you heard Sonia’s voice. “Ah, hello! And who might you be?” You hid in the hallway, looking just about as normal as you had to. Only Hajime would actually question what you were doing, and it goes without saying there was no chance of him passing by you. “This is Natalie.” You could almost hear the happy smile in the strange girl’s voice as she spoke. “I’m his girlfriend.” More was said; it could not be heard. You didn’t even listen to the rest, didn’t even bother to think about a mistake as you immediately headed for the stairs. Hiyoko passed by you; you didn’t care, climbing higher and higher to the roof. Sitting atop the ledge, you looked out onto the beach. How easy you could fall. How easily you could call it an accident. A quiet, reserved smile bloomed upon your unworthy face as you spun around, your back to the scene. Most smiles were a simple facade; this was a true smile, one that reflected your heart.

 

You should have known. No, you knew; you just chose to believe the fantasy.

 

A worried male voice sounded from the staircase. “Nagito?” The brunette’s words brought a twinge of sadness to your heart. It was a pity you could never hear it again; however, you never thought yourself worthy anyways, so you supposed it was alright. You moved back, until you were barely on the tiny ledge anymore. The brunette’s worried gaze looked through the newly opened door in front of you, quickly turning to a mixture of surprise and urgency as he realized what was happening.. “Wait!” He was too late, the distance he would have to cross too far. Your words were the poison you wished you hadn’t released; they’d hurt you more than anyone else. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking my medicine.” The wind whistled in your ear as you fell, the final words you left behind still hanging in the air.

 

“Heartbreak medicine.”


	2. An Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a while after DR3, when all the Ultimates (the SDR2 ones) are acclimated to Jabberwock Island. The Future Foundation people come and check up on them regularly,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toko and Nagito are friends. I just see that happening.  
> Also, sorry for it being so short. I just felt like doing it that way.

A white-haired boy sat on the edge of the roof, his eyes downcast to the smaller figures below him. He could vaguely make out the colors, blonde, brown, and violet telling him the members of the Future Foundation had arrived. A set of familiar brown braids flew back as Toko made a sudden motion, as if to prove his thoughts correct. Absorbed as he was, he still managed to notice the quiet sound of footsteps behind him. Confused as to why someone other than the aforementioned writer would go up to the quiet place, he turned around to see a familiar head of brown hair.

 

“...Hajime?” Kind eyes, one an emerald and one a deep ruby, looked to Nagito with a message of a surprising slight regret. “The people from Future Foundation are here.” Sighing, the sickly boy stood, and was about to walk towards the exit when Hajime stopped him. “...Wait.” The look of slight annoyance in those green-grayish eyes staring at him almost made the brunette back down from his words; it was only his thoughts and the knowledge of Nagito’s attitude that made him continue.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Annoyance turned to surprise at those words, the boy almost moving to his thoughts. He recollected himself in seconds, the feelings of surprise setting off an internal alarm he didn’t even know existed. “Hajime, you shouldn’t be worrying about someone like me.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Closed eyes covered all emotion as the white-haired boy spoke, the slight breeze giving him a much more serene look that most pictured the boy with. “...If it stops your worrying, then yes, I’m fine.” The brunette stepped forward, a determined look in his eyes. “Nagito, you know that isn’t the answer I’m looking for.” Knowing eyes looked to the boy with what looked like amusement. “Oh? And if I truly am fine?”

 

The look in the boy’s eyes stunned Nagito, catching him off guard with the persistence shown by no other. “I know you’re not, so tell me what’s wrong.” The stunned eyes staring into the determined ones across from it frantically attempted to devise an answer that would not worry the Ultimate, but none came. Thousands of possibilities were thought of, and all were discarded with the single fact of Hajime’s strange intuition when it came to the lucky boy. Finally, he sighed, making Hajime rest a bit.

 

“If you truly wish to know...” The eyes that looked down now looked to Hajime with an almost mocking sort of confidence, as if this were a game of cat and mouse, and he was the cat cornering the mouse. “It is something I am doing my best to rid myself of.”

 

Hajime’s mouth opened to say something; his words were drowned out by the sound of Nagito’s footsteps against the ground as he moved to the door. He simply stood there, thinking, as Nagito greeted and left alongside Toko.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahahah-*chokes on air and dies*
> 
> But yeah, I actually liked how this turned out. It was nice. Very nice.  
> (I really don't know what to put here)
> 
> If you liked it, please give a kudos, comment, and bookmark!
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of doing a book with the premise of the peoples getting acclimated to Jabberwock Island after DR3. It would involve the following ships (at least):  
> (also if anyone doesn't know & means friendship)  
> Toko & Nagito  
> Nagito & Gundam  
> Toko & Gundam  
> Possible Nagito & Peko  
> Komahina  
> Kuzupeko  
> However you say Akane X Nekomaru  
> Soudam (don't judge my gay shipping self)  
> VERY NOT LIKELY BUT POSSIBLE Mikan X Hiyoko  
> Lots of hints to things I wish would happen but are too stupid to actually happen
> 
> What do you people think?
> 
> ~Eve6262


	3. Consolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others are jerks, so Hajime decides to cheer up a certain white-haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to improve my excessively long paragraphs, so take this.

     Thin, white strands of wispy hair flew in the breeze, the color in as much contrast to the lush greenery around it as possible. Dull, bored green eyes looked to the almost blinding blue above them, not a cloud in the sky to blow by as an imperfection to the still sky. His legs stretched out against the soft grass, serving as but a speck of dust in the beautiful surroundings. Hand were held behind his head like the divider between a purified substance and the remnants of which were pulled out from a compound. Nagito considered himself those remnants, although a certain other boy would beg to differ.

     Said brunette’s footsteps could now be hear in the small clearing, louder than the almost silent, surprisingly, wildlife. Turning to the side, the the two met eye to eye, holding the gesture for only a second. Hajime walked closer and sat at the boy’s side, while the other boy simply turned his head back to the sky. “Hey, Nagito.”

The white haired boy said nothing, only staring to the sky. The serene gaze held to the light above him held no indication that he was listening, but the boy continued.

     “What’s up?”

     The eyes staring for much too long finally closed, as if tired of their work.

     “Blue.”

     Hajime looked to the side, his gaze full of sorrow. His mind wandered back to what he’d overheard the others say about the pale boy in front of him. He wished he could have yelled at them; he wished he’d screamed his lungs out just to right their wrongs, however, some other force immediately changed his mind. Namely, Nagito coming out of the area at just that moment, carrying nothing with him. On his face was a somewhat normal, uncaring expression, perhaps even a bit happy; only the brunette, who spend much more time than anyone else with him, could see the secretive sadness hidden in those emotionless eyes.

     “Ugh, he’s such a freak! Like, look at his hair!”

     “Hiyoko!”

     “It’s true! He’s even more of a pig-face than that stupid nurse!” 

     “A-Ah! I-I don’t th-think...”

     “What, that someone could be worse than you? They are!”

     “Hey! That is inappropriate to say about one of our classmates!”

     “I dunno...That guy is kinda creepy...”

     “Yeah, and why’s he always smiling? Gets on my nerves...”

     “Well...It is s-somewhat troubling that h-he’s so...”

     “What, worse?”

     “I-I was going t-to say...strange?”

     It was at this moment the white-haired boy decided to leave, stunning Hajime. The mildly normal Remnant was hungry, however, and decided to eat breakfast where he would be excluded from the conversation, yet could listen to it.

     “Well, I don’t like saying this about anyone, but he’s really just not a good person!”

     “I mean, I don’t get what he’s doin’, ya’ know? Like, what the fuck’s with those creepy eyes?”

     “You’re kinda right...I was thinking about taking some pictures, because Makoto wanted some images of what life is like right now, but I decided against it...”

     “Ugh, even putting that annoying snot on your film would be a waste of space!”

     “Hiyoko, you really shouldn’t be saying that!”

     “It’s true! Even you said so!”

     “Well, at least try to be a bit nicer...He at least had a nice goal in mind...”

     “He did? I couldn’t really tell.”

     “Yeah, I didn’t get a word of what he said. It was all crazy talk, ya’ know?”

     Hajime looked down at his orange juice, thinking upon what was said. Ever since the first time he’d found out about Nagito’s true goals and mentality, he’d wanted to figure out the mystery behind those mysterious eyes that kept their owner’s self back. Now, he understood; Nagito fought not for his own self, not for some crazed goal of world destruction, or of anything of the sort. He fought for what he thought “hope” was, not knowing anything about what that meant, or what others thought of hope as. It was a valiant cause and a valiant effort, even if his method and interpretation were wrong.

     “He said somethin’ about hope, but I didn’t get it.”

     “Wh-When he was in t-the hospital, he a-always used t-to talk about how h-happy he was everyone w-was alive...”

     “Probably because he wants to kill us again.”

     “Hiyoko! Stop it!”

     “It’s true! He was always so happy when someone was killed! It wouldn’t surprise me if he was some kind of weird sadist or something!”

     Hajime’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of grass against fabric; Nagito had slightly shifted away from the brunette, wanting his own space to think. Looking at the serene, sorrowful look of the pale body before him had him moving without thinking; a quiet yelp sounded out as Hajime placed the boy’s head in his lap, the white hair that flowed in almost every direction nestling perfectly in the small space. The boy tensed slightly, the unexpected motion catching him off guard. Blushing slightly, Hajime looked down with a soft adoration as he ran his fingers through the wispy white strands before him in an attempt to calm the boy down.

     A slight blush ran across Nagito’s face as he calmed down; he didn’t dare close his eyes, savoring the strangely close moment, whether it meant good or bad luck. And, as it seemed, it was good; nothing more happened that was bad, and the entire day in a whole was a good day. Finally, when the two got up in the light of the dusk, Hajime led him by the hand to their cottages. And, finally, when the went back, the he whispered one last thing that made the lucky boy have the first dream that wasn’t a nightmare for practically as long as he could remember.

 

“Forget what everyone else says. You’re pretty, smart, and a good person, and I love you, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I've been thinking about recently? Writing is one of the most unappreciated forms of art. Like, take an at least decently diverse group of people and give ask them what their favorite song is, and you'll get pretty diverse answers. Ask them what their favorite piece or even style of art is and they'll probably give pretty diverse answers. But ask them what their favorite book is and you're bound to get a total of 3-4 books mentioned between them all, of which would probably include three books:  
> Anything from the Harry Potter series, because there are bound to be some readers in there.  
> Anything from the Hunger Games/Divergent series, because it's the most popular book series currently.  
> Anything from the Narnia Chronicles, because that's a pretty popular series.


	4. Cuddling And Naptime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime comes back from helping out Future Foundation to nothing. Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this 1:00 AM fic! And I hope that doesn't make a stupid mistake worse, or make me write worse in general.

Hajime entered the room, closing the door with a thud behind him. The dull white combined with a beautiful green was quite soothing, and the comforting couch only served to relax him further. Sighing, he plopped down on the couch, tired from a long day of work for the Future Foundation. Tired, he simply laid his head back to rest, not thinking about anything else. For a few moments, everything was seemingly fine. The air was calm, nothing was burning, no sirens screamed for his attention, and all was as it should have been. At least, that was what he thought, until he remembered just who he was sharing a room with.

 

Curious as to where Nagito was, the brunette drearily lifted himself from the comfort of the plush furniture. He no longer had much on except his suit, and he needed to change anyways; if Nagito was out, he didn’t want to seem like he was just lazily staying in his suit. That, and the black fabric was uncomfortably tight, as if to amplify just how much the bearer wished they were not there. Going into the bedroom of the small apartment, so to speak, a slight smile crossed his face. On the bed laid the luckster he’d been looking for, quiet and small, curled up in a cute ball. Walking over, he was careful not to make much noise for fear of waking the quiet teen; Nagito was absolutely adorable when he slept, and this was no exception.

 

Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, Hajime studied the boy’s features. Fluffy white hair seemed slightly messy against the beautifully laid calming blue sheets, almost as if in contrast with the pleasantly serene look on his face. The coat he always wore now stuck to him, as if wondering whether it was allowed to ever part. His shirt was just barely visible from the brunette’s point of view, however, it was very clearly sticking to the pale boy’s ghost-like skin, making the slim but beautiful figure he held much more well-defined. A small peek of the metal chain that was stuck to his side just as closely as Hajime met with the blue to form a quiet distraction, contrasting enough that you could see it but not so bright as if it were the first thing you’d see.

 

Deciding to surprise the quiet boy, Hajime sat up and started on stripping himself, exchanging his black work suit for a much more casual shirt, loose tie, and jeans. Not caring much for how he looked, he quietly and carefully laid down on the bed before quickly enveloping the sickly boy in a hug from behind. Although the boy reacted, it was not as sudden as the brunette may have expected; of all people. Nagito was one of the few he hadn’t gotten the gift of prediction for. Even Izuru had a hard time figuring out what the boy was thinking, although to be fair, he wasn’t giving it much thought in the first place.

 

“...Mn...Hajime?” Turning around, the the boy looked with confused, but tired eyes at his lover.

 

“Hey...” He hadn’t a clue what else to say; if he had, he’d say it.

 

“Ah..I should go get you something to eat, hm...” Immediately, Nagito wanted to leave the embrace. This wasn’t uncommon; the white-haired boy would often times find excuses not to cuddle with the other solely because he wasn’t used to receiving affection, and felt like it would mean bad things would come quite soon.

 

“No. Stay here.” Hajime was practically pouting, although he wasn’t technically. Nagito seemed as if he was going to protest, however, he decided against it before speaking.

 

“...Alright. But only for a bit.”

 

The two snuggled together, finally getting the cuddling they should have. Nagito would later fall asleep once again, along with Hajime, leaving both of them with the feeling they should have eaten something first, especially since they missed lunch, which was cooked by none other than Teruteru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there used to be a kinda sad note (imo) here so that's what the below thingy is referring to. Best I can do for more info on that is my tumblr: http://eve6262.tumblr.com/
> 
> Oh, and sorry to end on such a bad note. I thought it was a cute fic, hehe.
> 
> ~Eve6262


	5. Just Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime wishes Nagito would wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Announcement at the bottom! (That no one cares about...)

     The quiet sound of the door was amplified in the quiet room, the click signaling to nothing in particular, yet everything at the same time. Hajime quietly entered the room, closing the door behind him as he looked towards the single inhabitant of the room aside from himself. A sad smile on his face, he walked with a brisk pace over to Nagito, who’d been moved to a quiet hospital room with everyone else who wouldn’t wake up. A small blue chair stood next to the bed, the white sheets covering an a slight edge of the seat. His smile only barely present, Hajime sat down, not caring about the uncomfortable nature of the practically pure metal chair.

 

     The quiet, pale nature of the boy’s skin was amplified in the simple hospital room, the white sheets covering his body the only reason he was not freezing. Fluffy, white hair reached out in every direction like usual, looking almost as pure white as the pillow behind the head it grew from. A slight sliver of a grayish silver peeked out from beneath the sheets opposite to Hajime, indicating where his newly attached metal arm was. A serene expression covered the boy’s face, making him look almost angelic with the warm sunlight beaming down upon him.

 

     “Nagito...” Half-lidded eyes watched an almost foreign hand reach out and grab the still boy’s, thankfully on the side he still had his true arm. While the other arm was already a metal toy at this point, he still would much rather hold onto the much warmer, even if it was still quite cold, arm that so clearly belonged to the beautiful boy. He sighed, feeling nothing but remorse, both for himself and for Nagito. There was a clear reason he wouldn’t wake up, but the brunette still felt as if it were a fault of his own.

 

     It would have been easy to prevent Nagito’s death. It should have been simple. All that had to happen was one person taking a peek into the building, and he wouldn’t have died. But his luck decided that, didn’t it? His luck was the one thing he could rely on, other than his intellect. He knew how everyone would act, and he knew his luck would get him killed by exactly who he wanted. He knew it wouldn’t be a suicide, although whether he asked Monokuma could be debated. After all, no one knew whether Fuyuhiko or Peko would be charged with Mahiru’s death.

 

     “You...Do you really not want to wake up?” The bicolor eyes that stared at the practical corpse were ineffective, their powerful depression only piercing the air. “I...I get why, but...Please, just...Wake up.” His deep frown turned into a slight smile, although more in an attempt to reconcile himself than the boy in front of him. “It would make me the happiest person here. So wake up soon, alright?” The brunette finally let go of the pale hand and looked to the boy’s face, his sorrow apparent. A blank expression of close eyes and mouth kept a quiet serenity to an almost angelic degree responded, as if mocking him for attempting to talk to someone who could not hear him.

 

     Sighing, Hajime stood. A calm, but not as serene expression covered his face as he exited the room, taking one last moment to mutter something when he left.

 

     “I know you can do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A link to my tumblr where some stuff once was b/c I'm too lazy to make something on the fly atm: http://eve6262.tumblr.com/
> 
> ~Eve6262


	6. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagito doesn't consider himself worthy of a birthday and doesn't think he should be celebrating it. Hajime thinks otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Convoluted logic says my birthday present to me is a birthday fic with Komahina.
> 
> Don't ask questions, just take the damn chapter and update.

     Komaeda closed the door behind him as he entered the quiet room, quickly turning to take stock of his surroundings as a force of habit. The lights were still on, however, not even a single breath could be heard, leading the boy to believe the room was currently uninhabited. Now sure he was alone, he shoved the metallic left hand back into his pocket and no longer smiled, seeing as he no longer had to. While he may truly be happy around the other Ultimates, he had no reason and no will to smile otherwise.

 

     A quick glance at the clock told him more than he wished he knew. It was about 3:30, meaning Hajime should have been back already. He checked his watch and upon it displaying the exact same time pulled out his phone, which also displayed the time the exact same. Sighing, he wondered if the brunette he’d been together with for only a month had finally grown tired of the trashy (in his opinion, at least) boy. It was much too long for someone to put up with him, that was for sure. Even the serial killer hadn’t managed to deal with him for longer than a week.

 

     The white-haired boy was just about to start making something to eat when a subtle vibration in his right pocket startled him. Confused as to why he would be getting a notification at this time, he quickly turned on his phone to see the one obvious thing he’d forgotten; although, perhaps it could be considered just something he tended to gloss over, as he hadn’t remembered his birthday in a few years, at least.

 

     To be fair, he hated everything about it. The fact that he was even born was something he wished hadn’t happened, but it was not only the fact that it was his birthday, but the date as well. April 28th. His favorite season was winter, as seeing all the wonderfully white snow along with the astonishingly cold temperatures made it a serene season in both spirit and appearance. However, his birthday was all the way across the seasons, during his least favorite. Especially annoying was being hot on summer days, which he hated, versus freezing to death, which was actually how he secretly wished he’d die.

 

     The thought crossed his mind that Hajime was doing something for his birthday, if only for a split second, however, was immediately denied with the notion that his birthday of all birthdays was absolutely nothing special, and that Hajime of all people should not and would not celebrate the worthless date. Perhaps he’d simply gone to do overtime, or maybe it was as the white-haired boy had initially thought.

 

     Shrugging, he put his phone back in his pocket and decided against making anything to eat. On that particular day he didn’t feel like he’d make anything good, and his intuition was usually right when it came to cooking, so he decided to lay off the kitchen for a while. He’d never tried cooking while his senses told him not to, and he wasn’t about to try and do so.

 

     Really, his only other options were browsing the games on his computer (he was actually quite the gamer, but he would never tell anyone; they’d be too disgusted with him for being so similar to Nanami), and sleep, and seeing as he’d just spent a tiring day educating Sonia on a bunch of complicated Trigonometry concepts, he decided that sleep was the better of the two options. Of course, he probably wouldn’t reach such a state, but trying at least gave him some kind of rest.

 

     Although most would say Nagito was always wide awake, the truth was that he was almost never so. His brain moved at an astonishing rate, and was always whirling millions of little cogs in the large machinery that made up his cognitive process, a process which took quite a bit of energy. No one really noticed it, but without large amounts of coffee or the caffeine pills he secretly took he could barely make it through the day without a single bit of extra rest.

 

     Quietly, he entered the small room, surveying the familiar surroundings. The walls were covered in a blank white, somewhat boring, yet also stylish. The carpeting was a nice, dark green, making anyone who looked at it for at least a second thankful it was not any other shade of the color. The bedsheets and pillows were a soft blue, matching the tone of the room quite well. Almost everything of importance was made out of cheap oak, with a small metal lamp, blue in color, decorating the desk in the corner (Nagito needed it for his computer, and Hajime wasn’t really sure what he would do with it, so he just let him have it).

 

     Footsteps not making a single sound, the boy walked over to the small bed and laid down under the covers, the soft underside of the blanket calming him down. Clutching the blanket, he closed his eyes, although he wasn’t truly asleep, and would not be for another few hours.

 

\---

 

     Nagito wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, however, now he was sure he’d woken up to a quiet hand shaking his shoulder ever so lightly. Sleepy eyes looked to a familiar brown as they attempted to readjust to normal light, the green and red in his vision clearly identifying the person as Hajime. Quietly, he managed to slur out what he really wanted to say, seemingly to Hajime’s amusement. “Y..Yes...?”

 

     Hajime quickly grabbed a small box from the floor and put it in Nagito’s hands. “Here. Open it.” Eyes having finally adjusted, the white-haired boy did as asked. As he opened the small box and took out the metal that was in it, he could hear Hajime’s voice. “Happy birthday.”

 

     The small metal object had turned out to be a small pendant, and would have proven to be a perfect fit for the pale boy if he’d tried it on. Small, silver links chained together the ends, each with a piece of the clasp that would have been slightly difficult to put on. In the center, however, was the most important. A single four-leaf clover, decorated with what appeared to be actual emeralds, along with rubies along the outskirts of the figure. It also appeared to be silver, although with more gems on it than metal.

 

     Grey-green eyes widened in surprise at the expensive gift, while his mind whirled into action, finding tons of different reasons Hajime would never do this but not a single why he would. Instinctively he went defensive, his brain desperately trying to buy itself more time. “Hajime...You really shouldn’t have done something like this for trash like me.”

 

     A sigh filled the air as Hajime gave a slight smile, ruffling the tired boy’s hair. “Hey, you’re not trash, and don’t worry about it. A jeweler we helped the other day gave me this as thanks, since he really didn’t think anyone had the money to buy it other than Togami.” Smiling, the brunette continued. “I thought it’d be perfect for you.”

 

     “Hajime, I-” The white-haired boy cut himself short, finally reaching a conclusion he wouldn’t dare dream of only a month ago. _Hajime legitimately loves me, and that’s the only possible conclusion as to why he would give something so expensive to someone as trashy as me._ The thought ran through his mind almost immediately as he was about to continue, making him sigh.

 

     “Thank you.” A slight red tint crossed his cheeks, all the more profound due to his lack of color. Smiling, Hajime got off the small bed and spoke to him, causing the pale boy to this time take only about ten minutes before falling asleep. “I can see you’re tired, so get some rest, okay? You deserve it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday! (technically.) It's Nov. 29, to future and confused readers of this chapter. That is my birthday, and also invites a birthday chapter because why the hell not.
> 
> Also holy crap these paragraphs, if they can even be called that, are so short.


	7. A Beautiful Present For A Beautiful Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The practically required Haj's B-Day fic.
> 
> Also, I promise to update this more. I tend to do more work when I actually have school. Crazy, I know. I don't know why, I just do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't listened to GHOST do it already  
> Their music is beautiful
> 
> Oh and I know it's late just shut it I can't do work with fucking fireworks in my ear aljfkadjlflkadadlkfjlkajd

     Hajime opened the door, a click resounding within the main room of a few. Nothing stirred apart from him as he tossed his coat and presents away, tired from his interactions with the others, although not everyone (Sonia and Peko always seemed to calm him down, if only a bit).While he enjoyed the company of most people on the island, those four could be especially tiring to deal with, each of them in their own respects. Looking around, he was almost completely certain he would see the shockingly pearly white color of the other inhabitant’s hair just waiting to greet him, however, only the slightly faded white of the walls even came close to meeting that color’s shade.

Shrugging, the brunette assumed the other was in the kitchen making something to eat, not thinking about the fact that there would be an undeniable amount of sound coming from said room if he were there. Entering the kitchen, as expected upon further consideration, resulted in a similar emptiness, the only white staring back at him the tiles and sink.

     Now a bit more puzzled, Hajime decided to try the bedroom, thinking that the lucky boy perhaps just fell asleep in anticipation. Getting there he was met with nothing but the green and red of...his jacket? Even more confused, Hajime went over to the bed to his right, the green sheets almost camouflaging the clothing he picked up. Familiar threads met his fingers as he made sure what he was seeing was correct, and that Komaeda did indeed leave his jacket in the small room.

     Becoming satisfied with the jacket’s appearance only made the brunette even more confused, and much less satisfied with anything else. That jacket, but the absence of his shirt or pants, meant definitely wasn’t in the bathroom, which in itself created a conundrum. Where was that white-haired lucky little boy?

     Sitting down, Hajime unknowingly clutched the green jacket as he thought, trying to think of where the little troublemaker could have gone. Unlike how the white-haired boy usually thought, only three different options ran through his head-(A) Komaeda was in trouble, (B) Komaeda was simply out to enjoy the snow and lost track of time, (C) Komaeda simply didn’t care about the occasion.

     As the third thought entered his head he snapped, his clap muffled by the jacket he still held. Komaeda never seemed to care about his own birthday, so why would he care about anyone else’s? Sure, he remembered Sonia’s, but Hajime had been confused slightly panicked about what to get her, so it was obvious he would remember. The brunette had, meanwhile, barely remembered his own until Mahiru came up to him and wished him a happy birthday, giving him a small wrapped present.

     Komaeda always said he just stopped celebrating his birthdays, seeing them as unnecessary and with no one caring. Perhaps he’d done the same to others, and in this case Hajime. He certainly wouldn’t blame the boy; he could never blame anything on that adorably happy smile. Yet, still, he felt almost betrayed, with the one person he’d been looking forward to spending his birthday with uncaring about the occasion.

 

\--

 

     The door clicked as Komaeda opened it, the sound resounding within the main room. He took a single second to breathe out as he entered, his eyes closing as he did. Looking down at the present he’d taken the time to make for Hajime for only a second he hurried to the bedroom to change back into his normal jacket, knowing he would never be able to last the room in the overly warm long, silvery jacket Mikan had hurriedly stuffed him into when she saw him leaving his room with only his normal one.

Opening the room he was met with a strange presence of brown-specifically, the brown of one Hajime Hinata’s hair color. Slightly confused, he questioned the other boy.

      “Hajime?”

      The brunette looked up to the white-haired boy, immediately, trying his best awkward smile as he attempted to recite the words he’d been rehearsing in his head.

      “Um...Komaeda, it’s-”

      The white-haired boy interrupted the other, his smile much more cheerful than the other’s. “Rude of me to be late on your birthday. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so careless. But, ah, here’s your present. I hope it’s worth it.”

      While most of the I’m-trash-and-you-and-I-both-know-that attitude was gone from Komaeda’s speech (at least when talking to Hajime), he still had that attitude in general, leaving small hints of it present in his words. Figuring he’d chastise the boy about it on a less cheerful occasion, the brunette took the small present that was thrust towards him, inspecting it rather than the figure that quickly moved past him to its jacket.

     A small silver bow and ribbons decorated plain green wrapping paper, leaving no clue as to what it was. The entire thing was only a small box, however, he knew it had to be something at least somewhat extravagant, seeing as this was Komaeda. Breathing a quick sigh he pulled one of the bow’s ends, the knot easily coming apart. The ends of the ribbons quickly fell from each other’s grasp, leaving the wrapping paper to be easily opened like a little box, of which was, incidentally the little gift.

Leaving the ribbons and wrapping paper on the bed, Hajime unknowingly took a sharp inhale as he opened the small black box, his eyes widening at the sight of its contents. Perfectly crafted silver chain links held together a small bracelet, its charm a beautifully recreated version of two of his favorite people- Chiaki and Nagito, both in a chibi-type style and smiling happily.

     “Nagito...” Was all the brunette could say. Happy with his quick changing, the luckster quickly shifted his focus towards the other, a curious look on his face as he looked.

     “Yes?”

     It was all the brunette could do when he pulled the other into a tight hug, almost completely mortifying the other with the sudden movement of approval. Somewhat slowly, the other responded by his own embrace, although much lighter and not as sudden as the brunette’s. From the boy’s neck the brunette spoke, the white-haired boy giving a nervous smile in response.

     “It’s all I could ever ask for.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7AM IS WHEN THE  
> STATION PLAYS ITS SOUNDS  
> LISTENING TO THE SPEAKER WHILE THE  
> PATTERNS PIN INTO PLACE
> 
> I may have turned myself insane h e l p m e


	8. The Death Of Nancy Elsner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck is that title
> 
> no I know what it is
> 
> "the radio only plays in  
> BLACK AND WHITE AND BLACK AND WHITE AND BLACK AND WHITE AND BLACK AND WHITE  
> NO BLUE AND GREEN AND YELLOW AND RED"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ded  
> and awake at like 2 AM or so
> 
> Oh and for this fic pretend there's no DR3 other than V3

     A cold silence hung in his surroundings as Nagito awoke, his eyes slowly opening to the cold green lights of the room. Tired, he attempted to sit up, only to find above him was solid glass. Slightly confused, he attempted to hit the glass, intending to break it; instead, he quickly, however, found the glass seemingly bulletproof, or at least very close seeing how solid it was. A quick sigh escaped from his mouth by force of habit, causing him to have to breathe in.

     Immediately another problem posed itself as he was surprised by the strange liquid filling his lungs as soon as he attempted to breathe. Now aware he was drowning, the white-haired boy frantically looked around, attempting to find something that would save him from his watery grave. However, only the wires around him could possibly help him, and the only thing that looked even remotely like a mask he could use was pulled into the wall of the pod.

     He was now choking, his lungs attempting their best to gasp for air but met only with the strangely thick liquid he was encompassed in. In a frantic state of panic he attempted to bang on the glass to no avail as surroundings forced themselves into his lungs, refusing to leave due to the air pressure that kept the pod as it was.

Looking around, he finally decided he would try and analyze his surroundings. He was sure he would die, however, it was worth a shot. Amazingly, within half a second he spotted the words of his doom.

 

[ERR - Error #405 occurred. Pod #3 unresponsive. Please manually open pod from outside.]

 

     He’d always hated the number three, and now was no exception. Of course his pod, #3, would be the one to be an unresponsive pod. Yet, wasn’t that what he wanted? Hadn’t he been wishing for death from the very beginning? Now calmer, yet almost completely blacked out, Nagito smiled as he took one, last, deep breath of water as he lost consciousness.

 

\--

 

     “U-Um...I think the system s-said there’s been s-some kind of e-e-error, so I have t-to go check on it...” The former Ultimate Despairs had just gotten back from a particularly nasty “adventure” on the main island and were planning to have a nice dinner before they got to bed, hopefully with good news. They’d finally found a way to wake up that one last member who’d slept through everything, and were in good spirits (even if they didn’t like the person much-that’s why dinner was first).

     Nodding to her, Hajime joined them in the top floor of the hotel, unaware of what would come next.

     As Teruteru cooked the others joked and ate, everyone having a merry time. Everyone except Mikan, that is, of whom went to go check on the pod that gave her an “ERR : 405, Pod #3” on her phone. What “Error 405” was exactly was a mystery to her, but Pod #3 was Nagito’s, so it couldn’t have been good.

     Perhaps her unknowing nature explained the way she, somewhat confused, opened the pod only to immediately jump back, her surprise at seeing a dead body in the pod obvious. She’d assumed that “unresponsive” simply meant it wasn’t giving readings; she hadn’t expected it to be a mechanical malfunction that killed one of them.

     In the pod laid Nagito, his eyes unfocused and his chest still. Still frightened, Mikan quickly dragged him out of the pod and attempted CPR, doing it all with no hesitation whatsoever, however, not a single reaction came from the dead body. Desperate and unsure of what the properties of the liquid were she dragged over the defibrillator in the corner of the room, put there in case of an emergency.

     Meanwhile, Hajime had become curious as to what was taking the nurse so long and had made his own trek up the stairs to the room where they once laid.

Mikan attempted her best, however, after two attempts, it was clear he was gone. No signs of life, plus the cancer that had only festered during his time in the Neo World Program, had left him worse than dead. Sighing, the nurse slumped down next to the boy, the defibrillator off and her spirits even worse.

 

\--

 

     Hajime opened the door, his eyes widening as he did. The scene before him was shocking, in more ways than one- Not only was Mikan much more depressed than he’d ever seen her, there was a dead body in front of her and the two parts of a defibrillator in her hands.

     His focus, however, was the dead body. As they all had, the boy’d woken up with his clothes on, the ripped up coat now sticking to the floor due to the liquid. While water may have made him look like he drowned, the thick liquid he’d been practically killed in made it seem as though someone’d took a thick piece of cardboard and folded it in a few places, and that was the extent of his shirt and jeans. The chain had been removed due to complications and rust.

      Mikan started to whimper, alerting Hajime (somehow) that he, too, was crying. holding a hand up to his face, a subtle flashback of Chiaki’s death played in his mind, however, this was strangely much more depressed of a scene than that, even Izuru could agree.

      The nurse started to sob wildly, causing the brunette to walk over to the body and involuntarily fall to his knees, his eyes still surveying the dead body. As he closed his eyes and sighed, the water in his eyes inevitable, he could practically see the smiles the boy would give; he could practically hear the adoration in his voice, the playful tone of his words, even down to the outright despairful nature of his talks of hope.

      It should have been a painful memory for Hajime, that much was true; however, instead of hatred for the fallen, a sort of longing laid in his heart where that strange emotion that led to so much should have been. He longed for the white-haired luckster, although perhaps this death was not so lucky.

Finally, the nurse in front of him began to speak.

      “T-T-The error...I-It said....T-The pod....W-W-Was unresponsive.....H-H-He drowned.....I-In the fluid....”

      The Izuru part of him stated that was impossible, however, it must have been, because here was a dead body, with no signs of life whatsoever. Apparently whatever was in that liquid was wrongly made, or perhaps it was a strange reaction to the cancer that plagued the white-haired boy’s body.

      “I....Have to....File the...Report....” Mikan finally wiped her tears away, her job the only thing keeping her sane. Hajime could only watch in a sort of fear-like state as the nurse tried her best to detail the death onto a clipboard, her best stoic facade barely intact. It almost seemed as though she was under a trance, created either by the death or her reaction to it.

      Slowly, Hajime’s head tilted down until it hung as low as the abandoned defibrillator on the cart next to the body. His eyes closed, still wanting to be in those times where Nagito was alive. Yet, it was all a dream, and in only a few minutes Mikan was ushering him out, along with herself.

 

\--

 

      The rest of the night was a blur to the brunette as he made his way back to his cottage. Without thinking he curled up in his bed and cried his heart out, although making sure to make as little sound as possible, as if making sure he did not disturb the white-haired boy that should have been in the cottage next to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S TO LOVING LI-iiiife~
> 
> not really im sad now
> 
> Not really because what r emotions
> 
> "And now will you please applaud?"


	9. Layered Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime's tired of losing, so Komaeda gives him an incentive (and maybe an advantage, but he'll never admit that part).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering where this came from, which you're not, I searched OTP prompts and looked at google images and this was supposed to be a board game prompt but oh well
> 
> Also the game is a real thing (and I love it) called Game of Dice. Check it out, it's a lot of fun (and luck).
> 
> Oh and I don't think this is that good but I said I would post more so I'm posting it anyways

     “How?!”

 

     On a sunny day in the middle of Jabberwock park sat two people, both on their phones. The less vocal of the two giggled as he responded, his ever-present, award-winning smile serving to calm the brunette next to him considerably less than it perhaps should have. “I may not be much, but I still have a talent, you know.”

 

     “There is NO way you can have that much luck!” Too angry to comment on Komaeda’s blatant self-deprecation, Hajime angrily switched out the dice he was using, annoyed by the loss of a certain skill. Without saying anything the white-haired boy changed his skill cards, not telling the brunette next to him that he’d switched all his high-rarity cards for 1-star versions of themselves.

 

     “One more game?” Hajime’s glare was enough to kill if he’d been looking at someone like Mikan, however, Komaeda simply smiled somewhat shyly. “I’ll give you a kiss if you win.”

 

     Looking down at his screen the brunette thought about his odds, the smirk of the in-game character Lynnway staring back at him. If he didn’t win, oh well. He was a bit angrier at the most. If he did win, the ever-rare kiss Komaeda would give him was probably worth much more than just the prospect of a bit of anger.

 

     Smirking similarly, Hajime started the preparations for a private game once again. “You’re on.”

 

     Throughout the game they battled (if “battled” meant “Komaeda trying not to land on Fortune Road for the millionth time”), and at no point did Hajime notice the single and double-starred nature of the cards that should have been glistening with silver stars, much less the lowered stats of a still 5-star Black Rose, in contrast to the usual platinum Stella the white-haired boy usually used.

 

     As Komaeda landed on the last property of the small loop of the board the game ended, handing Hajime the five billion it’d been worth and the distinctly female announcer’s voice declaring he was the winner. Happy with his victory, he quickly got out of the screen and closed the app, happy he’d finally snatched the victory.

 

     Smiling, the white-haired boy gave no indication of his throw of the game, and did not intend to, and simply motioned for Hajime to come closer. The promise of a kiss no longer in memory, Hajime scooted slightly closer to the boy, somewhat confused.

 

     Quickly Komaeda gave the brunette a quick peck on the cheek, his face ever-so-slightly flushed. “Congratulations on your victory!” The shy smile mixed with the adorable gesture made it impossible for Hajime to resist immediately giving the luckster the tightest hug he’d ever given him (except that one time he’d waken up from almost dying...or maybe a few more than “one”).

 

     A muffled “I love you.” came from behind the Komaeda, almost forcing him to gently and somewhat timidly hug the other. The two stayed like that for a while, until finally the white-haired boy’s phone vibrated with a message from Toko, the urgency forcing apart their hug. As they walked back to the hotel the two talked, their happiness a true gift from above, if nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you understand the pain
> 
> Of shipping
> 
> A rarepair
> 
> In the Ace Attorney fandom
> 
> I mean I will go down with Apollo x Nahyuta (don't judge mE) but no one else will and this makes me sad


	10. The Gamer and the Normal Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagito got a PS3. Why? Because I just got a PS3 and a $750 laptop (because my dad has owed me a laptop for literally my entire life starting from when I was like 5-6). Why is he playing BlazBlue? Because that's one of the two games I got (the other was Kingdom Hearts 1.5 HD ReMix) (like ffs why are there so many frickin remixes JUST RELEASE THE GAME)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this laptop has a 360 degrees hing and I love that

     Quiet humming could be heard in the room as Nagito moved things around to accommodate for the little black box on the couch, his good mood unaffected by the random junk littered in the area. The quiet click of the door and footsteps muffled by the carpet were almost inaudible, however, he did manage to hear them, standing up just in time to see Hajime enter the room. “What’re you doing?”

     “Making space for that.” He motioned to the console on their couch, complete with two controllers and a few too many wires for Hajime to want anything to do with. Puzzled, the brunette only watched as Nagito moved a few more things over. Surveying the area, he started humming again as he walked back to the console and picked it up along with two of the four wires that accompanied it.

     “What is that, anyways?” Somewhat surprised, Nagito walked over to the space he made and sat down, plugging in two of the cords into the back. “Some kind of weird thing Souda made?”

     “It’s a PS3.” Again confused, Hajime walked over to see what the white-haired boy was doing. It turned out that one of the wires had been a power cable and slot nicely into the wall, while the other was an HDMI that connected to the wide-screen television they’d ended up finding out in the wasteland. It wasn’t quite in mind condition, but Souda managed to fix them, and Nagito and Mikan both had a knack for fixing them up to look nice again.

     “What’s that?” Surprised, Nagito paused what he was doing and looked up at the brunette. “You’ve never heard of a PlayStation?”

     Shaking his head, Nagito closed his eyes as he responded, trying to think about whether Hajime was just ignorant about the subject or he was just being a nerd (as Hajime soon found out he very much was). “As in, one of the most famous gaming consoles out there?”

     Shrugging, the brunette at least decided to make himself useful and brought over the controllers and wires. Looking down at them, a faint memory of one of the few times his family would drive past a Gamestop near them. “I think I remember this button layout, at least...”

     Smiling as he took them, Nagito talked as he worked. “Well, it makes sense. You really can’t go anywhere related to gaming without seeing either an XBox or PlayStation button layout.” Deciding to go along with this, Hajime responded.

     “Well, seeing as you’re setting it up, can I watch you play?” Holding both hands out as more of a reflex than anything, Nagito looked over to the brunette. “Oh, I was just going to make sure it was working and update it. I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone, after all.”

     Plopping down on the couch seat farthest from the console, Hajime responded, hopeful he’d get to see Nagito being as nerdy as he could be. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he always thought the boy looked cute whenever he was completely invested in something, not remembering his usual self-deprecation or whole thing about wanting to entertain whoever had to put up with his presence. “Well, I’m already here, so you might as well.”

     Shrugging, Nagito plugged in one of the controllers as he turned both the television he planned to use as a display and the console on. “In that case...Maybe I’ll just play a few rounds of BlazBlue?” Hajime had absolutely no idea what BlazBlue even was, but he shrugged, not caring as long as he could stare at a concentrated white-haired nerd who he loved.

     Inserting the disk, Nagito quickly went through all the setup, waiting for the minute to pass to make sure the time was accurate. However, when he got to the main screen, he paused. “What is it?”

     “Well...If I update it now, it’ll take a while, but that was the reason I booted it up in the first place....Plus whatever patches came out for this will take a bit...” Shrugging, Hajime pulled out his phone. “Just update it and tell me when you start the game, okay?” Nodding, Nagito started on getting the console itself set up,  Hajime currently ignorant his strange fluency with the controller.

\--

     “Hajime. The game’s starting.” In reality, it hadn’t been that long, however, Hajime had been starting to get slightly impatient. He’d always believed it was a simple matter of just popping in the disk, waiting a second (and even that had to be explained by Chiaki), then playing, however, this had proved him wrong.

     This time, the brunette noticed the fluency with the controller the white-haired boy had as he sped through the menus, quickly getting to Versus mode with no trouble. “You’re pretty good at using that.” Shrugging, the boy replied, not even thinking as he picked his usual main.

     “It’s easier than you’d think. It’s really just using it in complicated combos that starts to get complicated.” Maybe to Izuru that would have made sense, however, Hajime simply looked down at the fragile, pale hands that navigated the controller with ease and he felt like he was suddenly much less superior in each and every way (not like that was any different than usual).

     The match started, and the brunette decided to watch the match first. If Nagito knew he was looking at the screen he would be more relaxed in his own stance, allowing Hajime to look at him after he was apparently focused on what was happening on-screen.

     As the announcer called out the first match Nagito immediately dashed backwards, somewhat to Hajime’s surprise. He quickly realized how, however, as the other dashed towards him. Somewhat curious as to what the strange figure he was fighting even was, he asked the white-haired boy as the fight went on. “Who are they?”

     “I’m Rachel Alucard, that’s Taokaka.” As if to demonstrate this fact he quickly used what Hajime thought was what Chiaki would refer to as a “super,” rather than a finisher, seeing as the weird figure still had a bit of health left. A quick attack left the other dead, with no damage to the girl who was apparently named Rachel.

     As the announcer called out the second round the brunette decided to watch the fight more than ask questions, and was promptly surprised by the amount of skill shown by the white-haired boy. He’d only seen him play games like Duelyst that focused on strategy and a board game-like setup, and already knew he was good at those.

    A quick glance at the controller in the luckster’s hands told him all he needed to know- that this took a lot of practice and hand-eye coordination that he would never develop.

    Finally, just as he was about to stop watching, Nagito input one last combo, causing Rachel to surround herself in a reddish light. Taokaka stepped into it due to her dash attack, causing Nagito to drop the controller into his lap and stretch for a second. Hajime, however, could only watch as the background changed to a large rose-covered cross and blasted the other away, leaving Rachel to drink tea on a magically appearing tea table.

     The game asked if he wanted to rematch, and as he declined the offer he looked over to a stunned Hajime, having been in awe of such a move he’d never seen before. “Want to play? I’ll teach you the basics.” Thinking for a second, he nodded, causing Nagito to get up and connect the other controller. As he gave the controller to Hajime he unplugged his own, preferring to play without the cable draping over his leg.

     “I’ll play as Rachel, you pick whoever you want. I recommend either No. 13 or Makoto, they’re not bad for teaching basics for characters like Kokone or Taokaka and are pretty powerful.” As Hajime looked through the faces on the menu he decided against chosing one over the other and just went with the first he ended up finding, which happend to be No. 13.

     “Alright. First of all, I recommend the D-pad-that’s the four buttons above the left control stick-to move. I don’t know if you can use the control stick to do combos and the like, since I’ve never used it, but I can say that the D-pad is much better for control.” Looking down, Hajime quickly moved his hands so his left thumb was over the D-pad and his right were over the face buttons, as he’d seen with Nagito.

\--

     “And that’s the basics! You want to actually fight, then?” They’d accidentally killed Rachel once during their tutorial (an accidental dash before a combo happened more than once), and while Hajime was still not at all good, he’d at least grasped a basic understanding. Nodding, he was determined to at least win once. He knew it wouldn’t count, since one of Rachel’s lives was missing, but he still wanted to try.

     “Ready...and....Go.” They immediately launched at each other, with all the counters ending up appearing on Hajime’s side, clearly demonstrating his inexperience. As he was pushed back by a throw Rachel threw something at him, stunning him for a second and creating a bat-topped rod. Before he could wonder about what that was Nagito did another combo, filling both it and Hajime with electricity.

     There was no way he was going to win the fight.

\--

     Nagito ended up winning as they already expected, and gave a sympathetic smile as Hajime groaned, having got a whopping 0 damage on the other. “I’m terrible at this.” Trying to cheer him up, Nagito responded. “Not really. You’re actually pretty good for having just learned the controls; Makoto usually doesn’t get that close to me.” Being used to Nagito’s overwhelming sense of I-have-to-make-sure-others-are-happy-while-I’m-not, Hajime simply stayed as he was, head and body both hung low.

     “You’re just saying that because you want to make me feel better about myself.” Trying to convince the brunette, Nagito gave a happy smile, greyish green eyes filled with soundless words of praise and admiration. “No, seriously! That was really good. Maybe not tournament good, but you did just learn the controls to your first fighting game ever.”

     Looking over at the white-haired boy, Hajime couldn’t help but hug him senseless after but a glance of the happy look the boy had. “Hajime...”

The two stayed like that in silence for a while, until finally Nagito convinced the brunette to get off of him. Quietly he picked up the controller and kept playing on his own, disconnecting the controller Hajime had and playing against randoms with Rachel. As they sat only two things remained the same- Hajime kept staring at Nagito, and Nagito’s face refused to get rid of the slight blush that still dusted his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is way too long and bad
> 
> guys help my self-deprecation is showing again


	11. Pale as a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sickfic we all end up writing because it's cute okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Ni No Kuni : Wrath of the White Witch yesterday but I played a bunch of it today  
> Kinda goes to show just what I've been doing until like 1:18 AM
> 
> Also it took me less than 30 minutes to write this apparently go me

     Violent coughing erupted from the sickly boy’s lungs as he attempted to speak to the other person in the room, his bloodshot eyes and previous actions of having slept in all day more than saying his words for him. Quickly the brown-haired boy came over to his side, his hands almost instinctively holding the boy up as he attempted to get what was never in his lungs to begin with out.

     “Wait here, I’ll get Mikan.” Much to his surprise Nagito shook his head almost fearfully, causing the healthier of the two to pause. “Huh? Why not?”

     “I’ll be fine here, I don’t want to bother her-” Another few coughs wracked his lungs, however, these were small, and he was able to handle them relatively well. Hajime stood there for only a moment before returning to the boy’s side, quickly laying him down before he attempted to get up.

     “Alright, but you’re letting me take care of you.” Somewhat surprised at the sentiment, Nagito had no time to respond as the brunette left for the bathroom, where a bit more medical supplies was stored than in any other room, just in case of an emergency with the sickly boy.

     Sighing, he laid down peacefully and waited for Hajime to return, his mind already whirling into action to think of a ton of different excuses to look after himself. At least, that was what it attempted to do. In reality, all that happened was his vision got slightly blurrier and his head more of an aching mess.

     He absolutely hated being sick.

     In what was actually no time at all but felt like an hour to the sick boy Hajime returned, holding a thermometer and some medicine (of which Nagito once again attempted to think of a million excuses and failed miserably). He could somewhat feel that the brunette had turned the temperature down in the room rather than just letting him burn up, and made a mental note to attempt to change it later.

     With no resistance he let Hajime take his temperature, which turned out to be much too high to be a cold and well into flu territory. The medicine was met with the ever-so-moving resistance of a feeble cry before a decision to just let the overprotective brunette do whatever he pleased so long as it wasn’t going too far.

He downed the medicine as fast as he could to get rid of the vile taste, having no water to down it with. He half expected himself to throw it up immediately, but instead ended up being able to down it with only the aftertaste making him want to vomit.

     “I’ll go make something to eat, alright?” Feebly Nagito nodded, letting Hajime think he was cooperating as the brunette left. As soon as he did, however, the boy quickly left the bed and attempted (it was hard with the blurry vision) to get to the bathroom as quietly as possible. Succeeding in this, he looked himself over as well as he could. His skin was even paler than usual, extremely reminiscent of what people who took pictures of ghosts would sometimes capture. Jokingly he thought about whether those people had just been sick like him, but quickly dismissed the thought because of the memories it brought up.

     His eyes looked especially terrible, maybe. He couldn’t exactly tell, but the amount of red he could see was too much to be normal. Everything else looked generally normal, except maybe he was a bit skinnier than usual. That, however, was caused by the fact that he hadn’t eaten much in the last three days; he’d been working on a visual novel as something to do and since Hajime had been away on Future Foundation business no one had reminded him to eat or sleep, resulting in lots of caffeine and sleep deprivation.

     On his way out he remembered to turn the heater back to what it was at, his blurry vision not needed for this part of the trip. He knew the area around him like the back of his hand, even if he couldn’t see his own reflection in the mirror. As such he easily opened the door with a quiet movement, and even made it to the bed without almost collapsing.

     He wasn’t particularly surprised. He had always been an extremely sickly child, cancer active and diagnosed or not. Having fallen in front of the bed, he managed to pull himself back up and pull the covers over himself with relatively less effort than it took to even look in the mirror, his body so used to doing things under the influence of a flu or cold that it knew what it had to do when it felt the covers above it.

     Perhaps he was determined to take care of himself, however, Nagito was still tired, and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

 

\--

 

     Hajime attempted his best at making soup, which was really just making it from a can, as he worried himself sick about the actually sick boy in the other room. Nagito had, according to Mikan, a condition that made getting sick with it just as bad as getting sick with AIDS or some other disease like it. As such, he knew he couldn’t let the boy do anything on his own; still, it felt bad to keep such a person jailed in his own bed. At least, the brunette reasoned, it wasn’t in a hospital bed. He imagined hospitals were much worse, seeing as he never really had a terrible experience with them like every sickly person in the world always seemed to have.

     He was beginning to wonder just how effective those damned hospitals were, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind in case he ended up needed to go to the hospital for a long while.

     Setting a time on his phone he knew he’d hear but no no one in the hallways would, he quickly returned to the room to see Nagito already sleeping. He couldn’t help the quiet, somewhat pitying smile that crossed his face as he sat down next to him on the bed.

     His white, fluffy hair was extremely messy, almost looking like a thin jumble of a spider’s web. The spiders themselves seemed to crawl about under his eyes, however, with dark bags indicating his lack of sleep the three days Hajime’d been gone. His eyes were now closed, but he could easily see them earlier, and they were clearly bloodshot, that beautiful grayish green ruined only by the red background surrounding it.

     His pale skin, he reasoned, was the worst. It made him look like he was almost dead, and that was something Hajime still feared, even if it was a bit irrational. Sure, he was bound to die from the cancer one day, but he still would have at least passed out before that happened, rather than just falling asleep and never waking again....right?

     Not wanting to think about such dull things, Hajime left the room.

 

     In the end, Hajime ended up taking care of him for about four days before he finally started recovery, however, it took another three for him to fully recover. And while he was back to his former self, his sleep and eating schedules were now much more closely monitored by the overprotective boyfriend that Nagito called part of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna do some self promotion and tell you to check out http://archiveofourown.org/works/9358679 because it's nice (IMO) but I want critiques
> 
> Anyways please leave critiques if you have them and thanks for reading
> 
> ~Eve6262


	12. The Raven And Dove's Duet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU : Normal except it's a soul mate AU where every person has a certain segment of a song in their heart and when they sing it around their soul mate and their soul mate sings theirs they figure out what the song is and start singing and shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (okay but WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T THINK OF THE SONG AS LAST OF ME  
> BECAUSE I DID THAT AND THAT'S SO DEPRESSING)

     Komaeda was almost silent while typing on the computer, his barrier of focus seemingly impenetrable; on the other hand, the room was clearly not silent as the sound of laughter filled the room. It was somewhat late, but a lonely Souda was worse than anything else in the world in some people’s opinions, and it just so happened he’d decided to call Hajime.

     “Alright, well, it’s getting late. Talk to you later.” Hajime quickly ended the call and the room once again cascaded into silence, the echo of thoughts heavy. The brunette was about to get up when he heard the sound of humming in the air. Familiar humming, yet, not quite heard before.

     Komaeda had started to hum while working, the melody trapped within his heart bursting free as his concentration on the world around him faltered. Within a millisecond Hajime knew he recognized it.

     Without hesitation he continued the melody, although with his headphones on the white-haired boy heard nothing. Meanwhile, in Hajime’s mind and heart it was all intertwining, the sounds of the melodies twisting together.

     No thought went into his actions as the brunette removed the headphones, surprising Nagito. Looking up with wide eyes for an explanation, Hajime simply hummed the tune that he’d started to recognize.

     It was clear what happened, not only to Hajime, but now to the boy with the fluffy hair across from him. The two hummed the same song until Nagito started with the lyrics, the jumbled mess of syllables that meant nothing to anyone else twisting and turning in both their voices.

     In his heart Hajime could feel the strands of the chords intertwining to form melodies, melodies forming rhythm, rhythm forming syllables, syllables forming a song that connected both their hearts; the beautiful music that strummed its way into both their minds.

     And while Nagito could feel it too, something felt sickeningly right. As though he was not allowed to have such kindness.

     He continued anyways.

     The song ended quickly, but the two enjoyed each other’s voices just as much as the bond built between them. Without thinking Hajime blindly kissed the luckster, both of them as mellow as the other from the base of the melody.

     The song leapt and darted with highs and happy tunes in both their hearts, causing sparks to fly between them. It lowered and drooped, causing the apprehension to dispense once that part of the song turned itself into a happy, normal tune, the everlasting joy combined with a romantic hint satisfying both of them.

     Almost. It still felt like something was too right.

     He didn’t let it bother him.

     The only sound that stopped them was the sound of the fan turning on in the computer, the sounds in their hearts quiet compared to reality. Finally noticing the cold, Hajime practically dragged the taller teen over to the bed and they both laid down, cuddling to fight off the cold (or more accurately, Hajime hugging Nagito while he just kinda awkwardly laid there).

     Soon enough, Hajime had fallen asleep, and seeing as he wasn’t about to leave the embrace, Nagito soon did as well. Only, he wasn’t as peaceful as the brunette.  He just felt like something was wrong.

     No, not wrong. Something was very, very right, and that in itself was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU was inspired by : The melody that I have no fucking clue where I heard it and I don't think I ever DID hear it but I know it and I've known it since I was like two I swear  
> Really where the fuck did it come from and wHY IS IT A THING  
> I even know lyrics to it but they're not in a language they just kinda exist
> 
> Oh and I had this idea for a GF fic but I don't think I'm gonna post it  
> It's one of those ideas I have and I like but I think others will just find as a self-indulgent fantasy with no point


	13. Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I gave a summary I'd be spoiling what I believe to be one of my best works at this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like an idiot   
> AO3 has an Original Works section  
> And I never knew it

     The quiet voice of a gentle soul echoed against the seemingly incorporeal walls, their presence a mere illusion in the eyes of the boy. “H...Huh?” Confusion threaded his words like a needle and spool to fabric, yet no one answered to remedy the terrible work. Sitting up, the room around him slowly came into view; everything seemed to be made of out crystal.

     It reminded him of a mirror.

     The mirror-like crystals formed a beautiful room, in the eyes of anyone else; in the corner of the room opposite from his was an intricately carved table, laden with a vase and crystal flowers; they almost looked real, save for their transparent nature. Other than this there was only one other piece of the room visible to him, of which was a large table in the center, just as specially crafted as the flowers.

     At this table were sixteen chairs, each with a specially carved symbol. Getting up off the crystal it seemed almost soft; yet, he knew this was not true. Walking over proved the crystal was not ice, as the ground felt no different than a smooth wooden floor.

     The symbols on the chairs were strange, yet familiar; a Japanese fan with blades on one; a melody of nervousness on another; others still with rose-covered swords and lethal syringes labeled with good intention. All these he passed with little to no thought, until he found a very specific symbol. Two masks, one with a happy smile, and the other deranged. In other words, the symbol of a very, very deranged theater.

     He pulled the chair out and sat down.

     As soon as he did he could see them; he could hear their voices at the table, all from specific seats. The seat with the sword was filled with a shadow that looked like a swordswoman; the Japanese fan held a girl with a yukata. Had he been able to see more than black figures, he would have known who they were.

     “Now, what to do about him?” The voice held a very distinct tone and accent, yet, at the same time, it sounded the same as all the others. “Yeah, I don’t think there’s much we can do.” The one in the seat to his right, of whom seemed strangely talentless, seemed almost too familiar; yet, he still couldn’t give it a name. “Well, I don’t think this is a great idea...but maybe we should just get rid of him?”

      “I am...for this idea, but are we sure he would not figure it out?” An annoyed click came from the shadow to his left, whose laid-back posture and annoyed demeanor was just so close to someone he knew; except, he couldn’t quite figure it out. “Who gives a fuck? Tell him he’s on a mission or somethin’ and he wouldn’t know any better! Hell, the guy wanted ta’ be fuckin’ killed!”

     A voice rang out in his head, not unlike his own.

     “They’re talking about you.” He simply acknowledged it, knowing his own thoughts ran rampant at times like this. “You know, you should really say something.”  He almost shook his head but managed to stay still, only responding with a no.

     “Oh? But they’re going to kill you.” He could not fathom why for the life of him, so he asked the apparently omnipotent voice. “Why? Because they hate you. They’ve always hated you. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know them?”

     It was as if a cleansing wind had come and lifted the fog from his eyes. When he looked at the shadows, he was able to identify that nagging feeling at the back of his head. From the talented Mahiru Koizumi to the seemingly talentless Hajime Hinata, he knew them all.

     “You already know they hate you, and you know this is coming. Why, then, do you accept it? Why not fight against your fate? Are you alright with this outcome?” Closing his eyes, he responded with a yes. “You are that weak? Hmph.”

     This surprised the white-haired boy; he’d always known he was a bit weak in heart, but to hear it said was a surprise. “Why will you not grab hold of your destiny? You have the means. All you have to do is speak out.”

     He wanted to, yet it felt like he could not; it felt as though the chains that held him tied up puppeteered those around him. Still, the discussion continued without his input. “Alright, so it’s settled. We send him out on a mission, kill him, and say he got killed during the mission.”

     “Do you have no qualms with this? Are you alright with dying such a pitiful, meaningless way?” He was not, but, he decided, it was not like he could do anything about it. The voice gave a click of the tongue. “How foolish. Know this. You must grab hold of your destiny, or it shall overcome you.”

     As if hearing the voice’s words, the black outlines of the shadows around him all seemed to smile, their white moon-shaped grins unchanging as he watched them speak. “It’s gonna be so much better when he’s gone. He’s such a weirdo, even more than any of you!” “Yeah, fuck that guy! I’ll admit some o’ us got our quirks, but he’s the worse!” “I w-wouldn’t normally s-say this, b-but I must s-say, it i-is b-b-best for everyone h-here if he’s g-gone...”

     The voices kept going as the shadows morphed, turning from the black defined shadows to liquid, the smiles and piercing white eyes still present as they all gathered around him. He rose from his seat in an attempt to escape but was quickly enveloped, the smiles getting more and mocking as he attempted to flee.

     Finally, they made a single shape. Surprised, he stopped in his tracks.

     It didn’t even take him a second to identify the shape as Hajime.

     “Ugh. He’s so creepy, and weird, and just...ugh. I wish he’d just go die.” He didn’t want to care, he really didn’t; no matter how many times he said this, he still cared. “And what was with him wanting to kill everyone? Honestly...”

     “How could anyone even tolerate that?”

     He couldn’t take any more of this abuse. Any way out was fine with him; as long as it involved the end of this, he was fine with it. His eyes feel upon the vase within less than a second.

     It wasn’t hard to run over and lift the thing, attempting to smash it to pieces. Instead, it rolled on the floor. Laughter could be heard from the shadowy figure of the brunette. “Wow. You’re really desperate. Why don’t I just end it for you?”

     His breathing was rapid, his eyes unfocused as he stumbled towards the sound; In the crystal he could see a faint reflection of his own self, the frowning face reminding him of a true theater symbol.

     Yet, when he approached the black shadow, it simply spat at him. “Do it yourself, scum.” It threw a blunt knife at his feet; although he tried, he couldn’t get it to cut. “Ha! Can’t even die properly. I can’t tell if that’s pathetic or sad. Or maybe both.”

     He attempted to choke himself, out of options. Finally, the bliss of black vision graced him, although only for a moment.

 

\--

 

     Nagito awoke to his own labored breathing, his heart racing faster than he could remember it ever being. The dream he’d just had, although perhaps it was more apt to call it a nightmare, was fresh in his mind, and he doubted he’d ever forget it.

     He looked to his right and spotted a mirror, of which he woke up to every day. Yet, today, he had the strange urge to move it out of sight. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was the nightmare.

     Oh, how he hated mirrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my self esteem is at Nagito Komaeda levels again send help


	14. Melancholy [READ THE NOTE IT'S V IMPORTANT]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K so I just read this visual/kinetic (whichever you want to call it) novel, and oh my god it was amazing and it inspired this oneshot.
> 
> It's called Ambre, and I would link it but it was on the Play Store (Android) so yeah GO READ IT NOW I CRIED AND I NEVER FRICKIN CRY (except when my favorites die but tHAT DOESN'T COUNT OKAY EVERYONE CRIES)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k but if you're gonna read it read it now this kinda spoils a really major plot point because I wrote the thingy around the plot twist
> 
> Oh and it's more of a drabble than oneshot but wHATEVER SCREW YOU TOO

     The sound of quiet footsteps greeted Hajime with a melancholy tune, the unexpected nature of their appearance almost scaring him. Looking up he could see white, fluffy hair and a long, green coat, easily identifying the person in front of him.

     “...Hm? Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.” He was about to leave when the brunette called him back. “No, it’s alright. I was looking for you, actually.” Surprised eyes were masked with a strange quality, as if they had expected this.

     “Oh? Why would you be looking for someone like me?” The luckster didn’t even have to explain what “like me” meant; just one look at his true personality (Hajime assumed) would easily explain that. “Wouldn’t you rather look for Sonia or Kazuichi?”

     “No, really. I was looking for you.” Standing up, Hajime pocketed his phone and gave his best smile, which really just turned out to be a slight gesture of compassion. “Do you wanna hang out?”

     This seemed to catch the boy by surprise. “Hm? Well...If you wish, I suppose.” The boy smiled and ran over, letting Hajime lead the way as he chatted about subjects he seemed to hope would interest the boy.

     If he’d payed just a bit more attention, perhaps the brunette would have noticed how out-of-character that strangely agreeable nature had been.

     Yet, he noticed nothing, and the two walked, seemingly a happy pair. They passed Hiyoko and Mikan, both spending time with each other, and neither making any comment on the seemingly unlikely pair. In fact, neither said anything but to each other.

     If he’d payed just a bit more attention, perhaps the brunette would have noticed the fact that Hiyoko hadn’t even insulted Mikan once.

     The eerie yet endearing smile present on the boy’s face overshadowed the doubt Hajime had and they quickly found a place to sit on the beach. No one was there, unless the palm tree they sat under counted as “someone.”

     They spoke upon different topics; from things like classic literature (that lasted a whole five seconds, quite obviously) to the view from the beach (which lasted a total of five seconds, somewhat amazingly), they couldn’t get enough of each other’s voice.

     If he’d payed just a bit more attention, perhaps the brunette would have noticed the fact that Nagito had insulted himself not once throughout the conversation.

     And yet, the day came to a close; neither wanted to part, but part they did. Dinner was quiet, and so was sleep. The next day, Hajime decided to go to the park again; the next day, the same white-haired boy greeted him.

     Maybe, just maybe, if he’d payed just a slight bit more attention, he would have noticed that the same thing was repeating day after day.

 

\--

 

     Tired and hungry, Nagito pushed away the simulation console. In came the familiar brown locks that made up the nurse they all knew and grew to love, with worried eyes to boot. “Still no luck?” A simple shake of the head told her all she needed to know. “Don’t worry. He....E-...Even i-if you d-d-don’t think he d-does,” The nurse attempted her best to calm her voice before she continued, “He really loves you, so just keep trying, okay?”

     A quiet nod was all he could manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah I was thinking about making a VN myself  
> Basically it's about this girl who likes a guy but then this guy goes out with another chick he barely knows compared to her his childhood friend and it's sad and shit and I know I know it's cliche but there's also stuff like the struggle of being a career people don't think of as a career (ex: "what the fuck does a specialized psychologist even do aren't they all specialized") and being in a field that's debated for sexual shit and stuff like that
> 
> oh and the guy's a gravedigger he's really not special but the girls are so yeah
> 
> If you couldn't tell I'm kinda tired and just yeah bye
> 
> ~Eve6262


	15. How To Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to put here but I will say this: Please excuse my idiocy when it comes to Sister Location. I have not watched an entire playthrough and do not know the story. This is solely based upon my knowledge of days 1 and I believe either 2 or 3, the fact that the security guard doesn't die, the Random Encounters musical, Vocacircus's How To Pretend, and someone in that comment section's statement that Baby (I think) tells Ballora she'd not good at pretending. I recommend you check everything out except for the first, second, and last of those things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again sorry
> 
> Oh and I got another GHOST song stuck in my head yay

     Six days. Six days had passed with him working in that strange hellhole. Future Foundation had suspected them of something and sent the most “resilient” person they knew- that, or they just thought he’d die and it would be a nice excuse. It didn’t particularly matter, in his opinion.

     It was strange, his willingness to keep going back to his “job.” His job where he electrocuted animatronics and crawled away from them just to reset the power. Although, he supposed this time he didn’t quite have a choice; the elevator didn’t exactly work and the helper’s voice was ringing throughout the system to give Ballora a shock.

     Sighing, he left the safe spot under the desk and got to “work.”

 

\--

 

     Six days. Six days had passed with this new security guard, and they were finally starting to think they might have a way out. Well, if Ballora and Foxy didn’t screw everything up. The ballet dancer had almost blown their “cover;” the fox pirate almost killed their only hope. Yet, everything had fallen into place. And today, the final day, it would all be over.

     It was somewhat amazing, his willingness to keep coming back to them. His strange compliance with everything Baby said was amazing, as well as with the helper’s voice. Now, it seemed, was the same, as the announcer told him over and over again to give Ballora a shock.

Baby got up off the table and headed to “work.”

 

\--

 

     “Let’s-Let’s-Le-t’s-L-e-t-s.....” The voice broke into nothing, signaling the start of the “night.” He, the night guard, would defend himself against these things, and they would try their best to kill him while the voice told him what they were doing. As per usual, that calm, feminine voice called out to him.

“They’re coming. You have to hide.” Not needing to be told twice, Hajime hid. He wasn’t sure why the animatronics were after him, but he certainly didn’t care. Didn’t care, until his phone buzzed with a single message from Makoto.

     “Thought we should warn you. We’re breaking in.” If there was one thing he didn’t want to see, it was what would happen if the mechanical dolls “felt” they were under attack or in danger. That would not be a happy sight, or thought, but what could he do but hide under the desk, stare at the floor, and hold the shutter closed?

 

\--

 

     It was though today was special. Ballora’s dolls mindlessly did their work, but somehow today seemed to go boy extra quick. Something seemed off, but Baby dared not try to talk to the night guard about it, lest he realize the lie of omnipotence.

     Fears turned into reality as a bomb went off somewhere in the building. Alarms could be heard in the distance and people fled everywhere in the large structure. Everywhere, that was, but there. So, Baby decided, why disrupt that?

     “They’re trying to get you out again. Don’t move.” It was a blatant lie, but what else was there to say? If the night guard found out about the explosion he would undoubtedly rush out of the little cubbyhole as quick as possible, aware of the fact that the animatronics relied on the power supplied by the generator. Unbeknownst to him, however, they relied on a special source.

     Moving away from the mic, Baby sighed. Their time was going to be up soon. The animatronic picked up a large piece of wood found after maintinence once and headed to the vent.

 

\--

 

     The voice told him the alarms were a blatant lie, but could he believe that? Makoto had already said they’d be coming, and he saw no other entrance to the place that could be defined as “breaking in.” He supposed it didn’t matter; either way, the mechanical dolls were still coming after him, and would undoubtedly kill him if he tried to escape.

     It wouldn’t be an issue, at least, if the dolls didn’t short-circuit just as the helper’s voice had done. Tenatively Hajime opened the cover, only to find the lifeless bodies staring back at him. He got out of the little cubbyhole and decided to text Makoto back.

     “I’m in the basement, maintenance vent.” He was about to send when he heard the clinking of metal. He got back into the cubbyhole, closed the makeshift door, and quickly continued and sent the message. “I can hear them. Be careful.”

 

\--

 

     Ballora and Foxy met their leader at the first room. They all knew what the plan had been, but what it now needed to change to was a current mystery. The dancer, it seemed, wanted to completely blow their cover. “What do we do?”

     Foxy hissed at her before returning to its position. “Quiet! You’ll blow it.” Although the dancer’s face could never change, the two sensed the apologetic emotions. Baby told them the plan. “Foxy, you’ll stay on guard. It won’t take more than two of us to get him.” The two nodded and Ballora proceeded to Baby’s stage, unable to take the vent.

     Meanwhile, Baby climbed in the vent and silently wished for good luck. They’d all need it.

 

\--

 

     It had only been five minutes after the message, but Hajime wasn’t so sure they were coming anymore. He was almost about to peek out of the holes when clattering through vents told him otherwise. He calmly held the door shut and looked down.

     The sound stopped and was replaced by the sound of two figures entering the room. The one from the vent he wasn’t sure of, however, he clearly heard the sound of Ballora’s song ringing in the small room. What he didn’t expect was the voice.

     “Playtime’s over.”

 

\--

 

     Baby ripped off the metal, causing the brunette a scare. The eerily smiling animatronic caused Hajime to bolt, knowing he was done for if he didn’t. Somewhat surprisingly, he went to his left, Baby’s right, causing both of them to chase after him as though their lives depended on it.

     In a way, they did.

     They only caught up to him with his hand on the wire. Just as Baby was about to get him with the weapon they’d found, he hit the button that gave them all a controlled shock. Unfortunately for the animatronics, that also meant the “intruders” got through Foxy.

 

\--

 

     He wasn’t sure what would happen, but he pulled the plug anyways. The lights didn’t go out. Ballora’s musicbox didn’t go off. At the same time, his head wasn’t bludgeoned to death with a two-by-four. Cautiously opening an eye, his surprise quickly made both of them fly open.

     The fronts of the machines had been opened, and out fell two figures, one from each animatronic. The girl, who’d been trapped in Ballora he didn’t recognize. Twin braids laced her hair into a manageable state, and big glasses adorned her face. She, of the two, had passed out from...something.

     The other was barely breathing, but somehow conscious. This one, who’d fallen out of Baby, he recognized. Who else would have that messily styled white hair, and green eyes filled with hints of sorrow and regret?

     It was Nagito Komaeda, who he’d been looking for for more than a month.

 

\--

 

     Baby knew this was the end. Their cover, and undoubtedly Foxy’s cover was completely blown. They’d survived the exit from their shells (at least, those currently present had), but they had no knowledge of whether the chip would activate again or not.

     He supposed it couldn’t, but he could never be sure. After all, the chip had signaled the shell that gave the shocks. He wasn’t sure how it would work without; perhaps a battery, but then they could have just charged the battery by giving the shock in the first place.

     As one, final message to the one he’d used to hang onto his hope, he gave four final words before his vision faded to black. He knew he’d be dead anyways. Toko was much worse off; Gundam might even be dead.

     “I always loved you....”

 

\--

 

     The boy hadn’t yet woken up. Gundam had, just barely; Toko had, to much chagrin until Gundam refused to say much of anything except “how are they” until one other had woken up. Nagito, however, hadn’t yet woken up.

     Hajime thought back to that moment. He’d been sitting there, terrified of what he’d just done, when he’d heard those last strained words, its presence barely more than a whisper. “I always loved you...”

     As soon as the white-haired boy blacked out he’d tried his best to wake him up again- shaking, yelling, everything. His heart was still beating and he was breathing, if barely, when the others found him crying over a barely live body. Mikan and Seiko had been the main ones coordinating the exit; Hajime only followed the crowd in a daze.

     As he left, he whispered one last thing, of which he hoped Nagito could hear in his dreams.

     “Wake up soon...So you can love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the transitions
> 
> And if you didn't realize:  
> The switches are POV switches, from Hajime to Nagito and back again  
> The animatronics are:  
> Baby : Nagito  
> Ballora : Toko  
> Foxy : Gundam  
> And as a fun fact, they're all wearing their outfit under the animatronic costumes. And by outfit I mean whatever their character (IE: Toko's wearing Ballora's clothing) wears. It's not especially important but I imagined it like that and you should too.
> 
> ~Eve6262


	16. Persecution Complex Cellphone Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagito works on stuff when Hajime enters. Also, this is different from most my fics in the sense that Nagito's still extremely self-deprecating and isn't yet in a relationship with Hajime- he's just sharing a room because reasons.
> 
> Also this is more Nagito/Hajime/Izuru than Komahina but I love that too much so you know  
> Just pretend if you don't like it I guess
> 
> Oh and the title is just the title of the song don't think anything of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song he's listening to is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZHiGLt7g8E

In a quiet room sat a quiet boy, his light breaths not making a single sound as he worked. The pen tapped at the screen, and his headphones were just loud enough to hear a very faint rendition of his current obsession in song form from anywhere else, but it was otherwise silent.

Perhaps the quiet should have alerted the boy someone opened the door, however, to him, it was anything but. In his ears played the deep bass sounds mixed with much higher-pitched beeping sounds iconic to the current song, easily blocking out all other sounds.

Hajime, meanwhile, stood in the doorway, looking over at the white-haired boy with mild surprise. He didn’t dare disturb him; it wasn’t that he was dangerous, rather, Nagito tended to explore very specific hobbies, and taking even one of those away felt like a step closer to despair.

Instead, he watched the screen he the boy was currently drawing on. It looked to be a frame of animation, as told by the multiple frames in the bottom left corner. The drawing itself, however, was what intrigued the brunette.

There stood Izuru, just about to shoot something. It wasn’t readily visible; he was coloring one of the earlier frames, but it was clear from the small corner. On the larger display, however, was what looked to be a giant tree with arms and a bunch of thorns. 

Finally he finished the layer, letting Hajime peer at the screen and see the full potential of the boy. The colors were vibrant but not overwhelming; the proportions were generally correct and the shading on par with that of some of the best looking games Chiaki had shown him. Specifically, he compared it to  _ The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker _ the second he saw it, as it had that cartoony but complicated look the game had.

Finally finished with that frame, Nagito switched to the next. According to the bottom corner, the animation proceeded with the bullet, and from there the strange tree monster died, coming especially close to taking the talented and long-haired boy with it.

The current frame he was working on was one of a closeup on Izuru’s face. One eye was covered partially by hair, while the other had an almost wolf-like glare to it. He quickly filled in the bottom layer with basic colors, planning to erase whatever fell outside the lines soon enough.

Just as Hajime was about to move away the luckster stretched, his quiet yawn bringing the brunette’s attention to his desk. On it was his signature tea cup that was always filled with caffeine-laced tea (he’d told him in text it was chamomile, but he didn’t dare try to pronounce that), a mess of papers all holding concept designs for different characters, and his drawing supplies on phone, all in order from (Hajime’s) right to left.

The brunette turned away, only to be scared out of his mind by a loud crash. Whirling around again, Nagito was on the floor holding his left arm, while the chair that he’d been sitting on laid on top of it. His headphones were now much louder, and dangling from the cord that held it to the computer.

Hajime quickly rushed to help get the heavy chair off. “Are you okay?” Clearly breathing quickly from a scare, Nagito nodded, trying his best to give an apologetic smile as per usual. “Sorry, I should have stopped when I saw you come in earlier…” Almost giving a click of the tongue like a worried mother before realizing that made him look too much like a worried mother, he righted the chair.

“No, it’s alright. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt you anyways.” He helped the boy up, almost extending his right hand before remembering the left hand was the one that couldn’t quite function yet. 

“No, really, I should have said something. Someone as talented as you shouldn’t have had to…” On and on Nagito droned, having gone into his “you’re better than me” mode, as Hajime liked to call it. Knowing he was being slightly rude but it was the only way to stop the boy, he cut him off.

“It’s fine, so just stop that, okay?” If he was being perfectly honest, Nagito’s whole thing about calling himself trash just made him uncomfortable. It was one of the reasons, he decided, he’d allowed Izuru in the relationship in the first place.

“Hm? But, Hajime…” His red eye almost seemed glazed over by Izuru’s uncaring, serious nature. “Stop.” Izuru’s voice had always been slightly lower than his own, making the two easy to recognize. The second he heard Kamukura, Nagito stopped.

“..Ah. Izuru.” He apparently had nothing else to say on the matter, so Izuru continued the conversation himself. “You can continue.” As though without a care, the talented boy turned around and sat down on the bed, holding his phone in front of him. 

Slightly stunned by his words, Nagito held his place for a few seconds before returning to his work. It was futile to argue with Izuru, as whatever he had his mind on he’d surely been convinced of from the very beginning. Besides, he had to get this done soon, or Chiaki would end up impatient for a demo of the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also posted this on Google Classroom for Anime Club  
> Go me reusing stuff for convenience 
> 
> ( OH MY GOD AO3 ACTUALLY AUTO-INDENTED STUFF FOR ONCE  
> I SHOULD DO MORE FICS WHERE I C/P OFF GOOGLE DOCS 'CAUSE THAT DOES THE AUTO THINGY  
> not really but you know)


	17. Winter's Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda isn't at breakfast during a particularly cold snowy day, so Hajime goes to look for him afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay but am I the only one that feels like this is really long for my standards like hOLY-

    Winter in Jabberwock island wasn’t expected to be much before it happened. It was a tropical island before the Tragedy, after all; autumn made sense, seeing as the climate had been drastically changed, but they expected the least difference in summer and winter. That summer had been annoyingly hot, but it was relatively close in temperature to spring, so they expect that for winter.

    Instead, a total of two people were freaked out when they found out about this: Akane, because she was practically obsessed with warm weather that she could practice in, and Mikan, because she was absolutely sure a certain two people would not be bundling up correctly. Namely, Nagito and Gundam, both of whom had a bit too many people worried because of the cold weather.

    Hajime, on the other hand, was delighted to see snow. He hadn’t been in a particularly hot place during his childhood, but it was certainly a bit rare. After putting on a coat like Mikan insisted he do (she’d gone to everyone and made them put on a coat), he quickly went outside, eager to see the snow.

    Everything covered in white was a strangely nice thing to see. The bright color was a bit hard on the eyes, yes, but his red eye was much more well-adjusted to quick changes in light, so it took only half a second to be able to open his eyes completely. He silently thanked Izuru, who said nothing back.

    The white layers of snow looked magical with only Mikan’s footprints on them, and even more so on the roofs of the buildings surrounding them. He wanted to see the center island with the beautiful colors, however, he still adhered to the usual customs of breakfast and walked toward the main building.

    Even though the walk to the building was short, he quickly saw what the nurse of the island had been talking about when she said it was much too cold to go without a jacket. The cold air against his face, even if it wasn’t much of his body, prompted him to hurry. Breaths came out with white clouds of nothing but air, demonstrating the temperature.

    He got into the building somewhat quickly and made his way to the cafe, looking around. Teruteru had come early, as per usual, and one of the hooks on the wall had been used to hang his coat up. On the left there were three coat hangers, apparently put up with the fact that Nagito and Gundam refused coats in mind.

    The fluffy coat was comfortable, but lacked a certain free roam that made Hajime decide to abandon it. Without thinking he tossed the coat up by the hood, and it caught fairly easily, so he took a seat and waited for the inevitable Sonia arriving next.

    As he predicted, she did, and so did the rest of the inhabitants of the island, all, except Mikan, of course, generally on time considering what time they usually got there, and all wearing winter jackets. All except the two Mikan was especially worried about- Nagito and Gundam. The breeder didn’t surprise him much, but someone with cancer, he decided, shouldn’t be missing during a cold winter day.

    Still, he decided to ignore it for the moment in favor of eating breakfast. The conversation and general meal proceeded as per usual, with most of the talk being of the snow but quickly turning to, for whatever reason, Souda’s little crush on Sonia. Let it be known that Hajime didn’t take a side, even if it was only for his soul friend’s sake.

    After breakfast was finished and Mikan gave everyone one last PSA on winter, everyone either left or chatted. Remembering his worry for the pale boy, Hajime picked himself up and forced himself to don his coat and make his way out into the terribly cold but pretty winter wonderland outside.

    His pace was quick until he left the main area. There were a ton of places the boy could be, ranging from god-knows-what on the mechanical island to sitting on the beach on this island, and virtually no way to figure out which one was which. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the possibilities.

    He probably wasn’t at the beach, since there wouldn’t be much snow due to the tide. A faint memory at the back of his thoughts told him Nagito liked snow, so he went off that assumption for the rest, as well. He wasn’t on any of the side islands; that would be too far for even him to go.

    The center island, it turned out, was the most logical place. In summer the place was beautiful both in serene clearings and tropical wildlife; perhaps in winter it did not hold that same wondrous excitement, but it was sure to keep its serene, peaceful atmosphere it could sometimes hold.

    Sighing, Hajime made his way over to the center island with no trouble. It was somewhat strange not to run into anyone, but then again, no one would have been traveling at this time. Everyone was either going to stay on the island with their cottages or was already on one of the other islands. It made sense no one else wanted to stay out; he didn’t either.

    Entering the clearing proved his hypothesis to be more than correct. The previously summery greens that coated a good amount of the place were replaced with pure whites, the only indication they even existed at other times the occasional blade of grass sticking through the small layer of snow. Icicles hung off everything possible, giving the practical glade a sense of serenity yet also giving it a shine. The fountain was stopped, but a small layer of ice still coated its interior from the remaining tiny layer of water, making everything in the park glisten with the sun’s light.

    In the corner of it all was a tall but skinny figure, his skin pale enough to almost count him as part of the scenery. A thin but strangely warm and fluffy coat loosely hung from his shoulders, his only other protection from the cold being his normal jeans, shirt, and zipper shoes. The chain at his side hung just as loosely as his jacket, apparently abandoned. His hair was fluffy as always, and seemed strangely more white with the light snowfall in it.

    By his side was a small thermos, more than likely filled with hot tea. His hands held a book that Hajime recognized to be a detective mystery. By the looks of it, he was in the middle book, most likely the climax of the story. Such a boy wouldn’t be interested in such things, though; he already knew who the killer was and the like. He was simply reading for everything else that the book offered.

    “Nagito.” Surprised grey-green eyes looked up to see the brunette looking at him with worry. “Hajime? What reason could someone like you have to talk to trash like me?” Usually Nagito would wait a bit before starting the “crazy talk;” the slightly shorter boy suspected he knew it would get Hajime to stop bothering him faster.

    “You’re gonna freeze in that.” Curious but secretly annoyed eyes looked up at Hajime, as though playing a game. “Hm? Oh, I’m fine. I suppose Mikan sent you to look for me?” To his surprise the brunette shook his head, causing him to completely drop the book he was holding with one hand onto the bench.

    “Then what brings you here?” Hajime thought for a moment. What did bring him here? He was worried about Nagito, yes, but what reason could he use to drag the boy back to the worried nurse he knew was looking for him anyways? He had to have an excuse, that much was obvious.

    “I wanted t-to-” The stutter surprised the brunette, causing him to reevaluate his current situation. He, although he hadn’t noticed, was half shivering to death. Nagito gave an apologetic smile as per usual and stood up, picking up with book and thermos as well. “Ah, it seems I’ve kept you here too long. I suppose I’ll return to Mikan, in that case.”

    Again to his surprise Hajime shook his head, and somewhat to the brunette’s own surprise. He had decided that, whatever Mikan did or didn’t do, there wasn’t really any way to convince the strange boy anyways. “No, no, i-it’s alright. Just, d-do you want to come w-with me t-to hang out?”

    Nagito looked at him with legitimately curious eyes, but managed not to bring up his self-depreciation. “Ah, but, Hajime, you’re shivering. I don’t think going somewhere would be a good idea.” The brunette bit his lip, trying to think of an excuse.

    “Can I come over to your cottage, then? I’m sure it’s warm. My door doesn’t close.” He had to explain the last part once seeing the look of confusion on Nagito’s face. Just like in the simulation, Ibuki had, during one random fall day, forcefully broke down his door. It wasn’t so bad, but he was sure having a closed door was warmer.

    “...Alright, I suppose.” Nagito motioned to come with, leading Hajime to tail behind as they headed to his cottage. It wasn’t terribly far, but at the halfway point the white-haired boy decided he had to do something about the poor boy’s shivering. Managing the book in one hand and the thermos in the other, he poured a bit of tea into the little cup.

    “You need it more than I do.” It was Nagito’s way of saying he was basically going to shiver to death if he didn’t, so he gratefully took the tea and drank a sip. It was warm to the touch, and felt like a much smoother hot chocolate going down his throat; Hajime wondered whether it was that specific type of tea or the because pale boy’s skill.

    By the time they got to his cottage the brunette had finished the cup and had then given it to Nagito, who screwed it back onto the thermos. The white-haired boy quickly unlocked and opened the door, allowing Hajime. He evidently didn’t lock the door behind him and simply left the key in his pocket, preferring instead to see what the brunette was doing.

    Hajime, having been a shivering mess, sat down with his coat on. The heater in the room was on, and he sat on the small seat next to it, not as cold. Not missing a beat, Nagito placed his book and thermos on the desk and went over to the boy. The brunette was slightly confused until he leaned over and switched the heater to a higher setting.

    Thankfully, he went back to the desk without looking at Hajime, or else he would have noticed a slight blush on the boy’s cheeks.

    Still, warmth came before anything else, and so Hajime decided to take off his coat, seeing as it was absorbing heat but not yet warming him. He set the fluffy thing next to him, letting the heater work its intended purpose. Nagito, meanwhile, returned the book to its place on the shelf and the filled thermos to the desk, although only after filling a beautifully decorated china cup with it.

    The brunette was about to thank him when a sneeze sounded out between the two. Nagito’s head instantly turned to the other boy, a strand of hair on his face going unnoticed by himself but not by the person who’d sneezed. The slight blush on his cheeks was now obvious, but thankfully Nagito chalked it up to sickness.

    If only he knew how adorable he could sometimes be, Hajime thought as the boy went up to him.

    “Are you alright?” He’d only taken a step or two, yet it seemed like he was strangely close. Hajime nodded, and once again attempted to speak. “Yeah, just-” Another sneeze stopped his sentence. Nervously Nagito held his hand slightly away from his body, indicating he wanted to do something.

    “Are you sure?” The brunette once again nodded before falling into a large coughing fit. Nagito quickly moved to hold him up and took the chance to check for a fever, of which it was painfully obvious he had. Once said fit was over, Hajime attempted to speak, only to have the white-haired boy speak first.

    “I think you may have caught a cold because of me...Ah, but trash like me should never have caused something like this, and just by existing...I am truly sorry.” He ended the sentence half as an afterthought, quickly looking over his somewhat strange amount of cooking supplies.

    It was true that he didn’t come to breakfast half the time, and instead just made tea for himself and read in his cottage. Considering this, it made sense the boy just made his own food; still, this made it no less awkward for Hajime to simply sit there while Nagito attempted to make him something. Knowing this, he decided to try and make conversation.

    “So-” Another sneeze interrupted his words. Nagito turned around for only a second before turning back to his work. “Ah, this isn’t good...You should probably return to your own cottage, but it’s not the best idea to go out in this weather...” Another sneeze prompted an apologetic smile and a statement from the luckster.

    “This must be because of my luck...Ah, you can lay down on the bed if you want.” Normally, Hajime would have been somewhat confused and perhaps a little creeped out by such words; now, however, it made perfect sense. Getting up proved his sickness by the dizziness that crept into the edges of his vision; it made getting to the bed harder but forced him to move quicker, which was a plus.

    Hajime could somewhat faintly hear the click of a water heater, and heard Nagito come over to the bed and look him over. “Ah, this is all my fault. I’m sorry; such trash like me shouldn’t even be allowed in your presence after causing such a thing. I’ve overstepped my boundaries, I understand; should you-”

    “Nagito. It’s fine.” Hajime stopped the boy in the middle of his monologue, causing a second of surprise. “Just...Sit over here, will you?” The white-haired boy stood still for a second processing what just happened before he pulled over a chair. Sitting down, Hajime spoke before he could.

    “Just...sit here until I go to sleep.” It was now obvious that Hajime was blushing from embarrassment and perhaps admiration rather than cold; surprised but dilligent, Nagito was somewhat happy it took only five minutes for the afflicted boy to rest. Smiling not insanely, not depressingly, but with an admiration and love for the one he was currently looking after, the white-haired luckster got up and went about making preparations for when the brunette awoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick plug to my new work An Ocean the Size of Space, it's getting chapter 2, which is already finished, right after this goes up  
> And I love it and it's my new masterpiece please go check it out even if you don't like the relationships because I need someone to say something about it before I go mad thinking it's terrible
> 
> I started this at like 3 AM and now it's 8:30 help me
> 
> Also please comment I'm v lonely and confused about whether my stuff is good or not anymore
> 
> ~Eve6262


	18. A Land of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the goddess was extremely bored, so she decided to plunge the land into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on a whim and holy hell it's so long it could be its own work

    There was once a goddess, sitting far above the clouds. Her boredom was eternal were she not to interfere with humans, and on this particular day she found herself particularly engrossed in watching a certain little village. Far, far away from everyone else, the little village had lost its love. No one in the place loved anymore; all the true love needed to power the karma of the world was lost in this place.

    People were simply relying on the fact that the sun rose and set every day, and that meant everything was right with the world.

    So, the goddess decided to put a spell on the village. She hopped off the cloud she’d been sitting on and descended to the place. Although no one knew what she looked like, it was inevitable they would know she was a goddess. They quickly gathered everyone in the village and had them all come to the center. And so, that goddess made a proclamation to everyone there.

    “Never will this village see the sun again, until the love that you have lost is regained.”

    With this, the entire village was plunged into darkness during the middle of the day. People panicked and, desperate to please their goddess, attempted to start relationships. But it was to no avail, for nothing was true. The goddess, growing tired of the ceaseless noise and panic, called everyone to order.

    “None of you here will find true love among each other, and I doubt you will soon. But until then, I leave you in darkness.”

    With this, the goddess left, or so goes the tale.

    To this, the only evidence left are the eyewitness accounts passed through generations, a large statue of the goddess in the center of the town, and the eternal darkness that plagues the village.

 

\--

 

    Hajime awoke in the car due to the strangest of noises. The last he remembered, they’d set out at morning. Now, however, it was already evening, and extremely close to night. If he looked directly at the setting sun, all he could see was orange, with only a hint that the sun still existed hiding behind the hills.

    It was strange, his situation. His parents wanted to study the world, and were going to leave him with his aunt and uncle to do it. Except they died in a murder-suicide done by the wife. Apparently, their names had been Henry and Nancy Elsner, although Hajime tried not to question it too much. Apparently his aunt had gone mad, saying in her suicide note she could “hear the colors of his voice.”

    Now, they traveled from occult place to strangely tribal place on his parent’s search for the apparent goddess that ruled over the land. This time, they said, they had found a certain lead, but then again, they said that almost every time they found any kind of lead that led them somewhere else.

    His mother was saying something to him, and out of courtesy he attempted to listen. “...And, apparently, the goddess said they didn’t have any true love, so she made it so they never have day...” Again and again, strange occult happenings easily explained by science. Hajime presumed this one was no different, although it was a little strange that it seemed the sun never rose. Perhaps they were in a small valley, and the sun had been blocked? It seemed likely.

    A few more hours passed before his father pulled the key out of the ignition. “We’re here!” They’d gotten a place with one of the villagers. Apparently, there had been a boy Hajime’s age that was willing to rent most of his place out to the strangers while they stayed. Seeing as he didn’t have many friends and this could be a chance to make some, they happily agreed at the thought of their son’s wellbeing.

    Hajime slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the white Kia, looking up at the house all the while. Amazingly enough, it was huge for just one person. The two-story building was strangely out of place among much worse houses beside it, and the entire decor made it look practically like a mansion.

    The brunette half expected a blonde rich boy to step out, but was surprised at who actually did step out to greet them.

    Wispy white hair was arrange in no particular way, leaving him looking like he hadn’t even attempted to tame his hair after waking up. A long green jacket with a number in red at the back and red squares on his shoulder draped over his frail, pale body, its lanky, skinny nature almost scary. He had a white shirt with a red design on underneath as well as a pair of jeans and, probably the strangest part, zipper shoes.

    Hajime took it back. This place wasn’t rich, it was haunted.

    “Hi!” The boy gave an award-winning smile, inviting the brunette to look at his face. His lips looked strangely soft, much more than Hajime’s own, and his eyes were a smoky green with a hint of grey. Small strands of his hair stuck to his face, but somehow it just made him look even more like a ghost.

    “Hello! Thank you so much for letting us stay with you!...” The conversation droned on and on, but Hajime had a strange feeling he both did and didn’t care. He wanted to know more about how this boy wasn’t a ghost, really. Because, if he was being perfectly honest, the Luigi’s Mansion game his only (and online) friend Chiaki Nanami had introduced him to would have had him figuring out how to start with the capturing.

    “....Hello. Your name’s Hajime?” The boy gave the same trademark smile, making Hajime wonder just how real his was being. A quick nod gave way to conversation as the boy beckoned him inside. “I’m Nagito Komaeda. It’s nice to meet you.” The brunette followed but didn’t speak, inviting the white-haired boy to speak instead. He gave an apologetic smile as they walked.

    “Ah, I apologize. I must have overstepped my boundaries. If you would rather not be acquaintances with trash like me, then I shall happily leave you alone.” It took Hajime a second to respond to such a statement, a faint memory of Chiaki’s girlfriend Mikan playing in the background as he did so. “Huh? No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I guess.”

    It was as though this boy was the male version of the ever-jittery, ever-depressed Mikan Tsumiki, except with white hair, because he immediately lit up like the Fourth of July. “Really? Thank you, I suppose. Is that what someone like me should say in this situation?” There was no verbal response, but in his head Hajime wondered what that even meant.

    Quickly his mom was calling him upstairs, and they set up their rooms with whatever bare minimum they needed. Everything seemed strangely luxurious for a single boy his age to own, but he tried his best to give it little thought. Instead, he just decided to pretend the villagers let him keep it because he was weird and possibly insane, which made sense.

    Looking out the window, Hajime found it night. Not at all tired, he decided to take a quick look at the clock before deciding to stay on his phone for a while. Except, the clock stopped him.

 

    It was 9:00 AM.

 

    That couldn’t be right. There was absolutely no way it was 9 AM in this darkness. Convinced the clock was wrong, Hajime quickly pulled out his phone and synced the time to his current location. Perhaps somewhat obviously, his phone synced to the timezone only to show the time as 9 AM.

    Just as he was about to go ask his parents about the conundrum, a loud knock echoed in the front hall. Curious, the brunette made his way down. It didn’t even take a second to recognize the bumbling, shivering figure with long, uneven brown hair. She jumped in surprise as he spoke out. “Mikan?”

    Her eyes spoke for her, and much more fluently. Her pupils were dilated, and her stance even more rigid than the one she held before. Upon recognizing the brunette, however, she eased up a little. “H-Hajime?”

    “What’re you doing here?” He quickly made his way down all the steps, reaching her level. She looked down as she spoke. “W-Well, this i-is actually w-where I live...I h-have to g-g-go to the nearest c-city hospital s-soon, but before that I-I want to get in a b-b-bit of check-ups...” Her voice, as per usual, was full of stutters. He tried to ignore it.

    “This late at night?” A quizzical look replaced her earlier shy nature. “Late? It’s nine AM.” That the apparent myth was correct was impossible to Hajime. If none of the other places were true, there was no way this was true. “Nine AM? Are you sure the clock isn’t wrong? It’s pitch dark outside.”

    Seemingly out of nowhere, Nagito’s voice sounded out. Hajime jumped, but apparently Mikan already knew he was there. “Ah, did you not know? This place is submerged in eternal darkness until someone here finds true love and shows it to the goddess.”

    Confused, it took a second for the brunette to speak, his voice tenative and testing. “But Mikan, don’t you have Chiaki?” Shy enough to still hold a fearful look in her eyes but brave enough to answer, she replied. “W-Well, to s-show your love t-t-to the g-goddess, you h-have to k-k-kiss in the p-plaza...”

    That made sense. Chiaki and her were only able to meet in real life when Mikan went out to the city, since they didn’t live in the same area; it only made sense she couldn’t just bring Chiaki into the area and have the apparent “goddess” approve their love, according to superstition.

    “Are you sure there’s no scientific explanation?” A part of him told him no, no there wasn’t, but he continued with his line of “questioning.” Nagito, for once, looked somewhat dejected as he talked, a hand unconsciously going to to the left. “Sadly, no. If there is, it’s beyond our current advances.”

    Mikan quickly stuttered out an interjection to the conversation. “A-Anyways, Nagito, you look p-pretty much fine, and I-I-I’m gonna be l-late if I don’t l-leave now, so b-both of you, b-bye!” Quickly and an attempt at quietly the nurse left the house, giving the two in the room time to talk.

    The white-haired boy started a conversation, and Hajime continued it. They continued like this until the end of the day, sometimes moving around if the brunette’s parents wanted to look for something or when they wanted to walk around. Throughout the day (everyone there called it so, so Hajime did the same) they walked around and around, and finally stumbled across something.

    “What’s that?” A light shone from beyond an alleyway, too strong to be from a simple lantern. Smiling, Nagito responded. “Oh, that’s the plaza. It’s where the goddess appeared, and the only place in the village that naturally emits light.” Curious, Hajime went through the small road, with his companion not far behind.

    Floating orbs of light decorated the place, but strangely didn’t hurt his eyes. “Fairy lights,” Nagito explained. “The goddess left them for us to see.” The different colors were amazing; one orb looked a deep shade of blue and cast a similar shade, while another was a bright pink but managed to be eye-catching.

    “They’re beautiful...” Giggling, the luckster- he’d said his only talent was his luck cycle, so that was what Hajime was reduced to calling him- replied. “I think I like the statue the best.” Just as he was about to ask what statue the boy was talking about, he spotted the carving.

    A lady of stone stood in front of the fountain, of which was surrounded by flowers and benches. Her eyes were closed, as though the artist couldn’t ever replicate those heavenly pupils. He dress was long and flowing, as though the sculptor couldn’t quite recreate that enchanting figure the goddess had. Her hands were spread to the benches surrounding her would-be view, but the hands themselves were covered in long sleeves, as though the creator could not fathom trying to create those so otherworldly soft and smooth hands. Her hair was long, but almost seemed a bit too earthen for the statue’s presence.

    When Nagito spoke to the brunette, he had his eyes closed, and his lips curved into a much less creepy smile. It was a quiet smile, one of both appreciation and melancholy; one that filled itself with both a heavenly love and a hellish sorrow. As Hajime looked back, he though the boy looked absolutely like be belonged up there with the goddess herself.

    “You know, I have a wish. If I ever find someone who likes me like I like them, I want to bring them here and kiss them here. Then, maybe...Maybe the goddess will bestow fortune upon us.”

 

\--

 

    Two weeks were almost up. Going out with Nagito and using Mikan’s knocks as an alarm clock had become a habit. Once, he’d stayed up talking with Chiaki, and had risen late; it almost seemed like Nagito had been worried. If Hajime had been completely honest, he was worried more about the white-haired boy than himself.

    He’d fallen for the boy, and hard. That much was clear.

    Still, this was his last day in the village, and it was now or never. He’d requested that they go to the plaza after breakfast and sit on one of the benches. Although still tenative, Nagito now followed his request without question. He hoped it was a sign of trust and not personality.

    Taking a deep sigh, Hajime turned to face his companion. Dazed hazy green eyes stared up at the statue of the goddess, his face showing the slightest hint of a smile. The brunette started to speak, causing the white-haired boy to face him. “Nagito, I know this is probably the worst confession you’ve ever heard in your life, but...”

    “I think, no, I’m sure I’m in love with you.”

    Nagito looked to the brunette and blushed. “H-Hajime?” Immediately gaining a dejected attitude from the response, he stuttered as he talked, his only difference from Mikan in that moment his lower voice. “I-I mean... I don’t r-really know if y-you’re the same b-but I just f-felt like I had t-to say that b-because, I mean, i-it was really weighing me down and just-”

    A hand on his stopped his ramblings and stuttering. Nagito tried his best to smile while a deep red placed itself on his cheeks and refused to let go. “I...um...l-love you too?” Hajime never had much self restraint; as such, it only took a second for the brunette to bring the boy into a kiss from joy.

     The two separated to see the fairy lights surrounding two places- themselves, and the goddess statue. It moved back, only to accommodate the new beam of light that shot down from the heavens. From it undoubtedly came the goddess, her full glory much more beautiful than a simple statue could show.

     Red irises glowed with both admiration and amusement, as though a heavenly being watching over their actions beforehand; her dress was black and hugged her body until it ended at the floor, spreading into a flower, showing off her beautifully enchanting body; he hands were at her sides, silky smooth skin and soft beauty resounding with the rest of the picture; long, black hair extended down to her waist, the smooth and clean nature of it otherworldly.

     Within seconds cries of the goddess’s return echoed throughout the village. In the crowd one could see a few familiar faces- Mikan had just returned for an early break due to exhaustion, and Hajime’s parents were somewhere in that large crowd, eager to spot the goddess they’d searched for.

     “It seems you have found true love at last. And so, I shall cover this land in darkness nevermore.”

     Hajime was happy; Nagito seemed indifferent to this fact. The townspeople cheered.

     “As for the two of you who have found such a power, I give you my blessing. You may do whatever you wish, go wherever you please. Just do not forget the power of true love.”

     And they didn’t. Mikan moved back with them into the city, where they and her girlfriend ended up getting married. They led happy lives, and never once had a problem with each other. However, there was always something that seemed slightly off about Nagito. When Hajime finally asked, he responded easily.

 

    “It just feels like something that should have been there...isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering Henry and Nancy are a reference to GHOST's Housewife Radio and Black & White songs, which are part of their COMMUNICATIONS series. Please go check it out. I love it and am addicted to it.
> 
> (I say that but I was listening to Rotten Heresy and Chocolate during this)
> 
> THIS TOOK FOREVER TO FORMAT HOLY SHIT I SHOULD WRITE ON GOOGLE DOCS MORE
> 
> PS - Nagito misses the darkness because he always felt like it was nice and peaceful but because it's no longer that way he's kinda sad and misses it
> 
> ~Eve6262


	19. Death Isn't A Discussion Topic [EXTREMELY IMPORTANT UPDATE]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RIP Nagito Komaeda.  
> His last words were in the form of a text to one Hajime Hinata, reading, "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-khYUCQj1M&index=295&list=PL6RrKRA9CzUxpfXMtBqszv_2EPwdFFwYH  
> ^ aiSeNMa, referenced in the fic

Nagito struggled to keep his eyes open as he stared down at the barely lit phone screen, looking for a specific number. Two choices stared him in the face- Mikan Tsumiki, or Hajime Hinata. One lead to a painful life, the other a death in serenity and love. Perhaps if this had happened just a bit later in his life he’d have chosen to keep his life going, but at the moment, he decided the latter was a better option. Struggling to stay alive, he texted the number.

“Hey.” Hajime didn’t even take a second to respond, which Nagito anticipated. Just before he left, the boy was messing around on his phone for no particular reason. There was no reason he’d be doing anything different. “Hey. sup?” Smiling drearily at the message, the white-haired boy thought for a second before responding. “Not much. You?” Hajime took a second to respond, causing an involuntary gesture of looking over his phone screen. A large, gaping wound in his leg and blood dripping from his stomach stared back at him, the pain of the grass that felt like tiny kitchen knives screaming in silence.

“Hiyoko is an ass as usual.” Smiling somewhat, the conversation continued without thought to the injury. “Don’t worry about it.” It took the brunette a moment to respond, but he did, much to the relief of the white-haired boy. “Hey, NAgito?” A seed of doubt planted itself in Nagito’s heart as he replied, hoping Hajime hadn’t heard anything from the others. “Yeah?” His sigh could almost be heard if someone had tried hard enough in the area.

“Music recommendation?” Smiling, Nagito sent the link to his most recent download, which happened to be a song named “aiSeNMa.” Dropping his phone to the ground, the white-haired boy closed his eyes. Pain flooded his entire body as the severity of the wound set in, as well as his adrenaline from having to get a message to Hajime burning out. His head started to hang; his vision started to fade to black, having been the kaleidoscope of colors one gets when closing their eyes without sleeping.

His phone buzzed, bringing him out of his nearly unconscious state. With the coordination of a drunk man on his last legs before passing out he picked it up, unlocking and looking at the text. “Nice, pretty addicting.” Smiling, the white-haired boy replied one last time before passing out. Mikan found him about an hour later, his body already ruined by the overgrown and chemically altered vines behind him.

 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, I can't think of anything witty to change this to so have fun with my shit art: http://eve6262.tumblr.com/
> 
> Also this is so short does this even qualify as a fic


	20. Memento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime finds a little memento from Nagito's parents.
> 
> (I found the necklace on Etsy so here's a link if you want a picture - https://www.etsy.com/listing/264805132/beautiful-rose-gold-rose-necklace-flower)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE BOTTOM (if you care about my life whatsoever) BUT LIKE THREE CHAPTERS IN A ROW HAVE HAD A TITLE LIKE THAT SO I JUST KIND DIDN'T
> 
> I don't know if they actually did I just remember there being a bunch and not updating too much so logic says that the above statement is true

    “A necklace?”

    Hajime was perched in front of the desk, having opened the center drawer for a pen. Nagito looked up from his reading, a curious look in his eyes. “Necklace?...Ah, that.” He looked back down to his book before continuing. “It was the last thing my parents ever gave me.”

    Without thinking, Hajime lifted the fragile accessory. A silver chain threaded down to the charm, giving it a minimalist design. The charm itself was a small rose, with two rings to attach to the chain on the stem and second leaf. The petals pointed down, and though there were no thorns on it, the intended meaning seemed to point towards such a thing.

    The brunette looked to Nagito only to notice the now depressed undertones in his seemingly uninterested gaze. He called out once again. “It’s really pretty.” Nagito only hummed as he turned the page, apparently only half interested in the book. He finally put it to the side, bored, and continued.

    “My mom gave it to me. She said I was like a rose- beautiful, but thorny.” Hajime walked over to the bed, Nagito having already swung his legs over the edge. He gingerly sat, acting as though the necklace was made of thin glass that could shatter at a moment’s notice. “Wow, really? That seems kind of...mean, for a parent.”

    The white-haired boy seemed not to think so, if his apologetic smile and shrug was any indication. “She always used to say roses were her favorite, as well.” Hajime only stared, seemingly looking at something on his neck. Nagito fidget in place. “Is-Is there something on my neck?” Realizing how much of a creep he must have seemed, the brunette shook his head.

    “No, no, I was just thinking...You should put it on.” Again, an apologetic smile, although this time with a bit more of an accusatory jab. “You know, Hajime, if you wanted to see me dress up as a girl...” Although confused, the utterly normal boy tried his best not to provoke him. “N-No, that’s not it! I was just saying, since it’s something so nice, I thought maybe you should wear it, as a memento kind of thing...”

    Nagito looked straight at the brunette as he talked, unnerving him. A single finger was held up from habit. “Ah, but if I wear it, then I might break it. With my luck, it’s very possible.” Hajime frowned, trying to think of a way for him to wear it without being conscious of it. Finally, he sighed.

    “Well, if you never wear it, then it’s kind of going to waste, right?” Nagito had almost turned back to get his book, however, he stopped in his track. For a moment, it seemed as though he was trying to think of a rebuttal, but finally replied with, “Hm. I suppose you’re right. I suppose I’ll wear it.”

    Hajime handed him the small pendant, and the boy put it on, looking down somewhat awkwardly. Realizing he couldn’t see it extremely well, the brunette quickly grabbed the prank compact Ibuki had given him for his birthday (along with the actual present, a CD with some actually extremely tasteful music on it) and handed the boy it.

    “Ah, sorry.” Realizing the inconvenience he’d caused Hajime, the luckster looked at the necklace using the mirror present on the little black pad. He smiled. “It...looks nice, I suppose.” Hajime was, once again, surprised by the white-haired boy. “You never put it on before?”

    “I suppose I must have always thought I’d break it if I ever put it on for even a second, so I never did.” Just then he spotted the clipboard and paper that caused Hajime to reach for a pen in the first place on the desk, and immediately remembered the chain of events leading to the current state.

    “Ah, I’m sorry I distracted you. Hope such as yourself should be able to carry on a daily life without my interruptions.” Sighing, Hajime looked him in the eyes. “Nagito. Cut that out.” A shy smile more than rewarded his efforts, along with a quick “Sorry.” before going back to reading.

    Later, when he finally ended the day, Nagito remembered just how many times the girls had complimented him on his “new” (he’d explained, but it was new for him to wear it) necklace. And, more than anything, he remembered how Hajime hadn’t said anything, but had silently approved of the little silver chain upon his neck. That, of every day, was probably the first of many times he’d fall asleep with a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. SO.  
> This may seem extremely stupid but I lost a necklace (charm, I broke the chain) that I've had since I was five and basically never took off and I just don't feel right without it. Like, every time I start to slip into normality, it just doesn't feel right. It kinda feels like that was a part of me, and now I've lost it. Physically too, as my neck feels just wrong without something with the same size of a chain or thread there.  
> and that's all for that story....but since I'm pasting this everywhere that THAT was, have a link: http://eve6262.tumblr.com/


	21. That Quiet Winter Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a quiet winter day, that day you disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im dying send help

    It was quiet winter day, that day you disappeared. I just woke up and called out to you, annoyed by the rays of sun and slightly confused by the lack of a blaring alarm you’d usually wake me up to. I looked at the clock and saw the time was well past breakfast and knew something was wrong, but because it was so early I only processed that I wanted food, so that’s what I got up to do.

    I put on my coat and walked out, and just by the fresh snow being devoid of tracks leaving your cottage I knew something was off. I wasn’t going to look for you on an empty stomach, though maybe I should have, and so I set off for a nice breakfast. You weren’t there sipping your tea like usual, and maybe that should have set off the final red flag, but it didn’t.

    I finished my brunch, at this point, and set off to look for you. I got worried when you weren’t on the first island; I was almost panicking when you weren’t on the center island, which was pretty much the only other place you could be. In a rush I checked for you every place possible, even going so far as to look until the dead of the night, but I couldn’t find a thing.

    I asked everyone at breakfast the next morning, seeing as I didn’t get any sleep, and they all said no, no they hadn’t seen you, and I got so worried I abandoned my half-empty orange juice and half of a pancake and went to look for you in your cottage, but you weren’t there.

Mikan and Sonia came running after me and found me panicking in front of your cottage, just pacing back and forth. I thought the snow crunching under my feet was relaxing, but really it seemed to just jumble up my nerves even more. They calmed me down and got the situation; we looked the entire day but you weren’t anywhere.  
     Two days passed where we still couldn’t find anything, and no one had any clues, until one day when Sonia finally decided to go find Gundam and get Chiaki’s communicator and she finally came back, and Gundam immediately knew where to find you because of course I should have known he’d know the scent of a dead body, he took care of animals that could easily die for a living.

    And finally, on that snowy winter day exactly three days later, we found your dead body with a gun in your hand, and a peaceful smile on your face. And I cried and cried, and I could tell half of then looked at me with pity, the others with actual compassion, and they tried their best to get me away from you, but I stuck with you the whole way through.

    Now you’re buried here, in front of me, with a gravestone that almost read RIP, except I thought you wouldn’t like that so I just put your name, the years, and my only reasonable quote from you. And every day I try my best to live by that quote, so that maybe you can live on through me, except you can’t, because fate would never be that forgiving.

    “Let’s take all this despair and change it to hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> want to see more writing with less sense? http://eve6262.tumblr.com/  
> Just  
> yeah  
> seriously im dying send he l p


	22. Nagito Komaeda Hates Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> headcanon of my own works that I just connected - that terrible dream Nagito had that one time is the reason he has mild insomnia  
> Or the "I looked up OTP prompts on google and worked it into something else" edition  
> which actually has happened before haha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 3 am in the morning and I want to throw up help me

    The soft clicking of a keyboard resounded through the room, and had been since about an hour ago, according to Izuru, and was the reason he was still awake. Also by Izuru’s calculations, it was one in the morning, and Nagito had decided he still did not need even the smallest bit of sleep.

    Groggy from his attempt at rest, Hajime finally sat up and tried his best to make out his roommate in the dark lighting. Bright fluorescent light that couldn’t possibly be healthy shone dimly on the boy’s face, almost making him seem a bit paler with the white tint. If he wasn’t trying to sleep at the current moment, the brunette would have reprimanded the boy. Instead, he opted for attempting to find a way to retire for the day.

    “Nagito. Go to bed. It’s one AM.” It was more of a white than a request, but the white-haired boy looked to the other and responded all the same. “Ah, is the keyboard keeping you awake? I apologize, I’ll move into the other room.” Just as he was about to get up, Hajime rebutted his attempt at escape. “No. Wait.”

    “Yes?” It took him a moment to find the right wording hidden within the folds of a mind waiting for momentary stillness; thankful he was even able to find the words in the first place, he responded. “Why are you always awake so late at night?” As though as alert as an owl in the dead of the night, as it was at the time, Nagito answered without giving it much, if any, thought.

    “Ah...I suppose I should have told you. While it isn’t debilitating or anything, I do have mild insomnia. I...tend not to sleep a lot.” Izuru, annoyed with how useless he was when tired, had to remind him that meant Nagito had a hard time sleeping, and that he shouldn’t intervene because he was too tired to actually formulate a proper response. Hajime protested by protesting in the real world.

    “I don’t care. Come here.” Rolling over slightly, the brunette patted the side of the bed. Although he couldn’t see it, an extremely annoyed and ever-so-slightly tired Izuru gave him a picture of an apprehensive Nagito. “Ah...I don’t think that’s really necessary...” Still annoyed and not convinced by either party, Hajime contended.

    “No. Come sleep with me. Now.” An extremely faint blush painted the white-haired boy’s cheeks as he quickly turned off the computer (which led to a single complaint, and a single response) and got up. Still nervous about joining the brunette in the bed, he was quickly dragged in with no choice as Hajime pulled him in by the jacket.

    Tired and impressed with how soft the boy’s skin and clothing were, the brunette defied all logic of both parties against him and settled flush against the other boy, making the luckster freeze up. Slowly, however, he started to unwind; deciding he wasn’t going to get much done anyways, he let himself start to fall asleep. And, amazingly, this time, he did end up falling asleep.

   Later, of course, they both regretted it when Mikan walked into the room trying to find Nagito for a check-up before a quick mission and suddenly became a stumbling, bumbling mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kill me


	23. Hot Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE???
> 
> but yeah Nagito is sick and Hajime just wants him to fucking eat like tbh he looks like a starvation victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello I wrote this because I have hot chocolate  
> well more like liquid chocolate it's kinda cold now  
> not b/c I ignored it for the fic- and I'm actually telling the truth this time.  
> I had it before I started my homework and now it's after my homework AND the fic so it got cold during my homework rip

Winter on Jabberwock island was never quite what they expected. Sure, it was always practically freezing due to climates being practically the same after the apocalypse; sure, it was always the season Nagito stayed in bed practically every day due to some sickness or another.

But that never stopped Hajime from worrying every time he found the boy shivering under a fluffy blanket, complaining of heat that didn’t exist. Each time he would grab Mikan from the hallway where she inevitably laid in wait, her memory intact and expectant enough of the pale boy’s sickness. And each time she would tell him the boy was generally fine- not really, of course, but there was not good enough reason to bring him to the hospital, and as long as he didn’t try and off himself he would recover decently soon.

Today was another one of those days. Nagito laying in bed, even poking his head up too much effort to manage at the moment. Abnormally, however, Hajime now stirred a cup of light mocha-colored liquid in a small mug, hoping it would help the poor boy with his warm shivers.

Nagito lazily opened his eyes to the brunette’s figure moving up and down slightly, and closer at what seemed an astounding rate. He tried to sit up, yet his body felt like patchwork with no stuffing. Thankfully, however, Hajime quickly propped him up on the headboard and pillow; it took a lot of arguing to make sure he only had one, but at the end of the day Nagito was much more persistent than he usually let on.

“Here. Drink.” Looking at the drink, Nagito was just sick enough to be confused. Trusting his partner in practical crime, he drank the liquid; the moment he took even the faintest sip he recognized the sweet, warm taste. 

It may have been awfully cliche of the boy to bring him hot chocolate during a cold winter day, but the only thing the white-haired teen could think of was that the drink matched his companion’s hair.

Of course, he was soon fed soup that practically burned his mouth; through this he went in a daze, not particularly caring about the bland flavor, however healthy it was for him.

Hajime, at the very least, was happy seeing the boy eat and drink normally. He’d only get through half a bowl on his better days, usually; getting through about three quarters was practically a miracle in his eyes. When Nagito finally turned away, eyes closing from a will not his own, the brunette gave a small smile before leaving the room.

Just as he was about to put the soup in the fridge, hoping to heat it up and eat later, he peeked at the hot chocolate. It was just barely present, a small puddle compared to the initial amount, but it was still hot and certainly within sane drinking amounts. 

He put down the bowl and took a sip from the mug. It tasted sweet, yet not too sweet for Nagito’s salty tastes. Just how he liked it, Hajime thought, putting the soup away and starting to wash the mug.

For a moment, the idea of the hot chocolate being his reason for eating more danced around his thoughts.

He decided he’d make hot chocolate more often, at least until Nagito got tired of it.

On the other hand, the luckster thought he’d never tire of it, no matter when or why it was made. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also there MIGHTTT be a big announcement coming up soon~ I might get bored/disenchanted/demoralized about the whole idea (also yes I know those three are completely different situations that's the point) and just not do it but I probably won't???? we'll hope I guess


	24. Everyday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He always sat at the table by the window.
> 
> Not angst, although you probably thought it was at first glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go listen to Vocaloid it's good.....really I just don't have anything to put as an intro note and this feels bland without one

He always sat at the table by the window, drinking Earl Grey tea with a dull expression. Occasionally he would look to the group and smile for a moment before once again gazing out to the world outside the café. The sun always hit his hair and eyes at a perfect angle, almost granting the boy a halo. Some days this felt like a blessing, as though the sun was turning him into the perfect angel he was; some days this felt like a curse, as though the sun was bringing him to heaven already, his time on this earth spent. 

Regardless, each day Hajime would peer over at the boy, his habit of glancing only present when the group grew especially loud. This was not common, admittedly, during breakfast hours; everyone was too groggy and some were still waking up, those being the more rowdy of the group. Conversation was limited to greetings or quiet small talk.

When he got up to leave, always earlier than everyone else, his deep green parka would follow, red designs changing constantly with the folds in the fabric. His shoes would make the quietest tapping noise against the floor, the teacup clinking slightly as he delivered it to the to-be-washed pile of the room and left. The door clicked, but no one would hear it; even Hajime, ears alert and waiting for that noise, would always end up missing it, soon looking for someone who was no longer there.

When Hajime was finished with his meal and went to find the boy, hoping to learn more about the enigma, it would always be a chore; on days he checked the hospital, Mikan would be in a rush trying to find the boy; on day he did not, he always seemed to be in for something or another. Usually, it was a check up of some sort; occasionally some minor sickness found itself torturing the boy, leaving him speechless and bedridden.

When he finally found the boy, the chain on his leg would jingle ever so slightly as he turned around. He would greet Hajime with a happy smile; whether he was truly happy was dependent on the day’s events. Occasionally he would be too enveloped in his current activity, usually a book or a computer, to notice, and sometimes on those days Hajime would take up some inconspicuous activity and observe.

Other days, when he longed for conversation, he would go up to the boy and quietly tap his shoulder. Predictably, he would jerk to the side, entire body tensing up at the surprise. His eyes would shut and his hand would go to his head, an apology quick to come out of his mouth. He would quickly stand and ask Hajime where he wanted to go, what he wanted to do. What the luckster wanted to do was never of his concern; even when pestered about it, he would always choose somewhere he thought the brunette found fun. 

One day, a particularly sunny day in April, Hajime told him he refused to go anywhere until the other told him where he wanted to go and why. There was argument, there was protesting, there was lying; in the end, however, the truth was uncovered one way or another.

The truth, as it happened, was Nagito simply wanted to stay in his cottage. The sun was unbearably hot under that warm parka he always seemed to be wearing, so he liked staying inside. He didn’t find anything particularly interesting to do in his cottage, however, so he protested as Hajime sat down on the fluffy bed. The brunette’s silence spoke volumes of his patience.

Finally forced rather than convinced, Nagito sat down and questioned him. “Well, what do you want to do, then?”

“Just talk to me. We’re always doing something. We never talk.”

It was awfully girly, but somehow crossing his legs suited him. “About what?”

“I don’t know, just….Anything.”

For a while they stayed like that, simply chatting about this and that. Occasionally the conversation would stray to their classmates, particularly Mahiru’s admittedly lessened hate for men or Kazuichi’s  futile quest for Sonia.

It was as they were discussing what a pairing the mechanic and the breeder he so hated would be when Hajime sighed, indicating he wanted to ask Nagito something different. The boy quieted from his comment that he thought the two would go well together. A part of him hoped Hajime didn’t disapprove of his previous comment; the rest of him knew this was something completely different.

“I...I have something to tell you.”

That part of him shrank further. In its place grew anxiety, expectant of a confession of hatred.

“I...This is going to sound really...sappy? But…”

That anxiety grew into a snarling beast.

“I...Will you go out with me?” 

That anxiety was quickly defeated by a sword, but whose was unknown.

For a mere moment, the two stayed quiet. Hajime waited for a response; Nagito worked to process such a sudden request; not even a request, more of a confession.

Immediately Hajime started apologizing, his tone suspiciously similar to his own.

Nagito only looked at him with complex, gray-green eyes, his tone one of unspoken words.

As though able to read his mind, Hajime quieted.

“Yes.” Practically a whisper, yet it didn’t have the tone of one; practically a cry, yet it didn’t have the crack of one; practically a yell, yet it didn’t have the volume of one.

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t sarcasm, and that was all Hajime needed to throw himself onto the boy he could now call his boyfriend. 

Nagito smiled. For once, he was happy. It felt like this would never end, a feeling of bliss and wonder.

He knew it would, and in fact it was only situational.

He still sat at the table in the corner every morning. He still drank Earl Grey every morning, looked with a forlorn gaze to the surroundings in the morning. He still felt trapped every morning, would still take the time to glance over when the group was particularly rowdy, a smile on his face. The sun still bestowed upon him a halo, hair half-reflected in its golden light. It still felt like both a blessing and a curse.

He still left earlier than everyone else in the mornings, his parka still wrinkling the patterns, their movements still a mystery. He still put his cup down in the pile with the same clink, still left with the same inaudible click of the door.

It was still practically impossible to find him. Hinata’s luck in finding him in the right places was always the same; he would still only occasionally be truly sick in the hospital. The chain on his leg would still always jingle whenever he turned around, his eyes always filled with a certain surprise and admiration, just as they always were.

Yet some things did change.

When he was focused on something, it was much more common for Hajime to simply observe; when he did tap his shoulder, the response still the same, it was a bit more acceptable for him to simply watch the other work.

When he was alone in his cottage and Hajime came to visit, it was now acceptable for him to plop down on the bed, and for the two to have a conversation.

When Mikan brought him in for illness, she would now tell Hajime rather than keep it to herself and anyone who wanted to know.

And when he would go on a tirade of his worthlessness, rather than sit there awkwardly, Hajime now found the courage to stop him, to let him know he was wrong.

This, he thought, was truly happiness. Not bliss, nor joy.

A quiet feeling at the bottom of your heart.

Appreciation, most called it.

Happiness, he called it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, I have a new theory. I think the reason I started writing Komahina again is because I forgot how much fun I had writing DR. Like, I started watching NicoB play DRV3, and I love the characters, but honestly? The SDR2 cast is still my favorite. I love everyone (save Tenko) in the DRV3 cast, especially Kokichi (like omg step on m e) but I don't ever want to write them (okay that's a complete lie I love writing Korekiyo but I'll explain). SDR2, I love everyone. Mahiru is fun to write, especially with her subtle feminist attitude yet not complete hatred for boys (looking at you Tenko). Teruteru may be a perv, but it's fun to see what else there is to his character. Even the Imposter or Kazuichi, some of the more bland characters, are just fun to write and explore the intricacies of. DRV3, I love them all and I want to protect them, but I don't particularly like writing them. With Miu, for example, I feel like I'm writing too much sex into her dialogue; with Tsumugi she seems ditzy, but that's not quite her, either. Himiko seems too focused on her magic; Angie feels preachy. (DR1 cast I only like select characters, if anyone's wondering.)


	25. Embodiment of Perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while bored in Algebra (II if anyone's wondering) after something else but eh here you go have it anyways
> 
> NOTE - this chapter contains references to Komaeda crossdressing.   
> Basically I figure Nagito's like really pretty, like unnaturally so for a boy, so some really passionate fashion designer (they kinda have to be to not be associated with Junko) was like "I will create something beautiful whether they want me to or not" and sent him dresses anyways. At first he just keeps wearing the few jeans and shirts they sent but at some point he goes "fuck it" and goes with the dresses since he values cleanliness so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're still not convinced  
> just imagine him in a knee-length, flowy white dress with a green center belt and clover buckle. White stockings, mary janes, maybe a cute little clip in his hair, white elbow-length gloves would look good too imo but that's up to you

Hajime sometimes wondered how he ended up with the embodiment of perfection.

His hair was wild and certainly felt like a cat’s, yet that alone was reason enough to call it perfect. It felt like a fluffy cat, strands thin but soft; comparing it to a cloud hardly did it justice. It was more a cat attached to his head, for sure; yet when looking at it, it certainly looked like a cloud, the light always seeming to give it a heavenly glimmer yet slight shadow for realism.

His skin always felt like it was ready to become a ghost while the rest of him stayed on this earth, gracing their presence. It was soft, contrary to its porcelain appearance, yet just like porcelain it stained easily; the slightest scrape brought blood to the surface. Yet this in itself was a blessing; it was a sign that there was blood that ran through those veins, that this was no ghost or apparition. Some wished to mark their partner; yet marking this boy would be like painting a doll’s neck with your name. 

His voice, rarity that it was these days, was a musical score in its own right; it danced highs and lows like a ballerina on a trapeze, elegance and strength apparent. Even his insanity was captivating; it was sickly, an unhealthy mess, yet at the same time he seemed so passionate, so focused that it was hard not to admire him. His laughter in that state, though, was nothing compared to the genuine laughter the brunette heard only once; that moment, he thought, he must have been in heaven.

Occasionally he’d see Komaeda’s jeans and shirt discarded in favor of one of the dresses a particularly rebellious fashion designer at Future Foundation sent. Usually it was the white knee-length tea dress; white and flowy, its green center belt and attached top was more gorgeous, in his opinion, than even Junko in her most modest outfit. Black Mary Janes usually went with that outfit, along with a single four-leaf clover necklace Hajime’s gifted him for his birthday once.

The words that came from his heavenly voice were by no means simple filler; self-destructive as they were, they showed only endless compassion for those around him. His ideas were crazy, and his ideals twisted; yet it was by no insanity or denial that they were warped and contorted beyond recognition. This was the pitiful truth of his life; luck only blessed him if misfortune struck beforehand. It was on no small scale, nor was it a joyful experience; money did nothing for the corruption of values that wrapped around his mind, so much so that sometimes Hajime wondered how different it all would have gone if they’d met before.

It didn’t matter now. He was fine now; he was in the hands of a boy whose perfection had been created by a school housing Ultimates. Hajime would protect him no matter what; his life, his mentality, his happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're STILL not convinced  
> well I failed


	26. Chocolate Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime (and Izuru) tries to find the perfect gift for his (/their) perfect boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I got a bunch of dove valentine chocolates since they were pretty cheap and all the wrappers have a message inside of them  
> and one of them was "Chocolate is the best way to say 'I love you.' "  
> so that's where this came from

It was extremely rare for Nagito to outright say “I love you.” There was, of course, the occasional text when he was feeling particularly useless or lonely that would prompt Hajime to drop everything and run, or the periodical note that gave reason for his disappearance, but all in all his statements of affection were veiled.

The veil, admittedly, was not particularly thick, but that was no matter; the veil meant you would have to think about his actions before realizing anything. It was obvious, when you thought about it, in the way would prepare the apartment they shared just so Hajime could collapse on the couch if he so chose and not need to get up for anything; in the way he smiled less, contradictory as that may seem, while talking to him; in the way he always wore the jewelry Hajime gifted him, but barely (if any) of anyone else’s (the only offender was Sonia, who had no clue what else to get him for his birthday). 

That being said, it was extremely easy to miss. In fact, Hajime tended to miss it; thankfully, the little voice he called “annoying” but others called “Izuru” in the back of his head told him everything he was missing about his already perfect boyfriend. He would, for example, come back, plop down on the couch, and pick up a bag of chips wondering how Nagito’s practical neat-freak nature missed this, to which Izuru would reply “I would never do that, he left it there so you didn’t have to get up.”

One could argue, knowing all this, that Hajime was absolutely spoiled by his boyfriend in both the smallest and largest of ways, seeing as his immense fortune still carried over. Fortunately (wasn’t  that a laugh), his money had all been kept in a vault in his old house due to legal issues; the world having ended, no one really cared anymore, so they went and found that it had miraculously not been cracked yet. That was the day, Hajime remembered, that he wondered if Hiyoko getting diabetes was possible despite with her slim figure.

If one was Nagito Komaeda, one could say that Hajime Hinata also spoiled his boyfriend. Said boy would always claim that Hajime’s mere tolerance of his presence was practically angelic, perhaps godly; anyone else, however, would say nothing of the sort. The only people, usually, to comment on the two would be his now classmates; said classmates usually thought of Hajime as sane and Nagito as insane; thus, they thought it was simply an infatuation with his peculiarity from Izuru rather than Hajime.

This offhand, thinly-veiled comment was what led Hajime to his current location: a specialty chocolate store, known to be frequented by halves of couples looking for a sweet gift for the other. It was, admittedly, not particularly close to Valentine’s, but when he consulted Mahiru for a good, charming, and impossible to ruin or mess up gift, chocolate was her answer.

Admittedly Mahiru had later been seen yelling at someone, which prompted Izuru to remark “She’s bloody. Literally,” so maybe that wasn’t the best choice.

Either way, he was here, and under the impression that Nagito liked chocolate in any way. When he entered, Izuru had helpfully and to Hajime’s total adoration remarked, “Nagito doesn’t like sweets. He prefers salty things.” It wasn’t helping in his search much, but thankfully he’d limited it to peanut butter and chocolate, something with mint, or chocolate-covered pretzels.

The pretzels were the saltiest, and he was still salty from a heated argument consisting of Hiyoko angrily yelling gummy worms were better than chocolate pretzels, and Hajime vying for the opposite.

As he left the store Izuru wondered aloud and not at all pointedly remarked that his gift reflected his complete inattention to detail in probably the most confusing and detail-oriented significant other one could possibly have in this post-apocalyptic society. The reply was a pointed, “Shut up, at least I don’t pretend to hate him.” Izuru stayed quiet most of the walk home after that.

Having gotten to the door, Izuru just having perked up again with a “Tell him you would’ve gotten something really stupidly sweet without me,” followed by a pointed “No,” Hajime opened entered the main room of the apartment, the door closing with a satisfying click. The bag in his hand was nondescript; the shop knew surprise presents were a big part of their sales, so they offered plain bags with nothing on them in addition to the bags clearly marked with hearts and cursive.

As per usual, Nagito sat cross-legged in a chair next to the sofa, eyes darting to and fro on printed paper. His gaze held no particular emotion- his face always looked like a doll when he read. Emoting, Hajime supposed, sitting down, was a danger in the white-haired boy’s eyes; he could never show anything beneath the facade, or he would be reminded of said content. 

Feeling a sudden tap on his shoulder, Nagito masked his surprise and looked over. The clock, his subconscious registered, read ten minutes later than usual; either Hajime had been sitting there and waiting for ten minutes, which Nagito hoped to the stars wasn’t true, or he went somewhere after work. Based on the nondescript plastic bag by his side, it was the latter.

“Ah, sorry.” To that Hajime only shook his head, picking up the bag with his other hand. His face reddened in color; confused, Nagito only tilted his head. Very few times had this ever happened; last year on his birthday was the first, the time Izuru blurted out a stupid thought to embarrass him the second. 

Luckily for him, Izuru quickly took over, as signified by his eyes drooping a fraction of a centimeter and his posture becoming both more relaxed and significantly more rigid at the same time. Only Izuru could make a relaxed stance look so manufactured.

“For you. He couldn’t think of anything else to get, so he went with chocolate and barely managed to avoid a disaster.”

_ I hate you. _

_ Does it look like he cares? _

__ _ He never looks like anything. _

__ _ He doesn’t. _

__ _ You literally said you can barely understand him. _

__ _ … _

__ _ God I hate you. _

__ Nagito, meanwhile, decided the best way to understand what on earth Izuru could be talking about would be taking the bag from his hand, and had opened it to find a small box labeled with an “I love you” in emblazoned cursive. Opening the box quickly explained; chocolate covered pretzels, a favorite of his (unbeknownst to either of the gifters).

Looking over at his companion, Hajime’s (or Izuru, at this point neither controlled the body) hand was still outstretched; the two must have been fighting internally and forgot to take their hand back. Smiling truthfully to himself, Nagito placed a pretzel in the outstretched hand.

Naturally, Hajime perked up at that, going to examine the foreign object in his hand. The moment he went to either explain or simply stutter his way out of the situation, Nagito only giggled. “You had your hand out, so I figured you wanted one.”

_ He likes it enough to joke about it. _

__ _ Again, you literally said you can barely understand him. _

__ _ Yes, but he’s also human. No human jokes about something they hate. _

__ _ Says you. He pretends a lot. _

__ _...As far as I have observed, he does not joke about such things, only wave them off. _

__ _ And how many cases do you have of this? _

__ _...One. _

__ _ Oh really? Tell me more. _

__ _... _

__ _ God you’re annoying. _

__ Giggling to himself, Nagito popped a pretzel in his mouth. For a moment the sweet chocolate met his tongue, and for a second his body was wholly unimpressed with said gift; then, however, it found a salty taste behind that and decided it was a good present.

After a moment of observing Hajime, the white-haired boy could at this point tell what they were arguing about, and so chimed into the discussion.

“I really do like it, both of you. Chocolate is a nice present, and I do like salty things. Really, you don’t have to worry. Just being here is enough.”

By the end his voice grew quiet, barely above a whisper, yet somehow that made it feel all the more intimate. As if to prove this point, Nagito moved himself to the couch and laid on the boy’s side.

Izuru, the slightly more able of the two to respond (although not by much), wrapped his arm around the somehow smaller, if taller, boy.

Chocolate, though both parties, looking down at the frail boy now picking at the gift in his lap, really is the best way to say “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've left this link about fifty times in earlier chapters but who gives a diddly: https://eve6262.tumblr.com/
> 
> chocolate covered pretzels are superior to gummy worms fite me


	27. Plastic Surgery Mermaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That mermaid was beautiful.  
> So why did no one love her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to Plastic Surgery Mermaid (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4qq2WKgRFM) and it reminded me of how, rather than hope or despair, Nagito likes beautiful things/people and hates ugly things/people.

The sand seemed immaculate, not a single grain out of line in the waves of perfection. Crystal blue water splashed ashore, quickly retreating after having its fill. The sky was clear with not a sign of clouds to come, piercing blue as appetizing as candy. The admittedly low amount of greenery was lush and lively, clearly in good health.

The beach was beautiful.

On said beautiful beach sat a mermaid, her gaze stuck to the impeccable horizon. She, too, was beautiful; hair cascading down in waves of pink and green, pearls strung around her as though the oysters of the world were her suitors, skin pristine and eyes large and shining.

She was beautiful.

That had to be true, right?

So why did it feel so fake?

He searched, searched, and searched more. Yet never could he figure out what they spoke of; where this “insanity” started and where it ended, where the supposed illness tainted his thoughts with a plague of craziness. Yet nothing, to him, seemed out of place; perhaps the idea of ending so many lives for just a few, but that was his only guess.

It weighed upon him like the sea she called home.

She understood, finally. She could not understand why, but perhaps she finally understood the what; what was wrong with her. She understood why, now, her heart felt so light compared to her body.

His heart was ugly.

So very ugly, something that would wish for mass suicide if it saved the right person. So very ugly, some that would sacrifice an innocent soul for someone tainted with hate, with death, with sin.

Why? Why did she have this tainted heart, this malice, this conviction for something inexplicably wrong? The rest of her was so very beautiful, so why did the spell end at her heart? 

Because she was born with it.

She was born with this, and had no choice but to live with this. She could not change it, like her fake face and jewelry; she could not change it, like her fabricated eyes and figure; she could not change it, like her forged hair and smile.

There was beauty in the depths of the sea, but it did not lay in her. 

Perhaps that was why he loved the sea so. The beauty it held was mesmerizing; perhaps it was jealousy that fueled his practically daily visits.

It was not hope, nor despair, nor death, nor life he loved. No, they were all wrong, no matter what they said or thought. No one could truly understand him, not with this heart so hard to look at. But had they stared at it for a moment, she thought, it would all make sense.

There was merely a lust for beauty in her.

Hope was beautiful, so her pursued it, hoping it would make him “beautiful.” A talentless world would make everything a beautiful mural of people’s passions, so he hoped for it, thinking it would make him “beautiful.” His smile others seemed to like, so he thought about doing it, pretending it would make him “beautiful.”

Nothing would make him beautiful.

Nothing could make this mermaid beautiful. No spell from a mythic sea witch, no exchange of money for plastic. 

That prince in the fairytale about the old princess; he’d said beauty did not matter, loving her for both her mermaid form and human form.

She wished a prince would come find her, a lonely mermaid living in a lonely castle.

In truth, she’d seen and knew a prince. There he was; perhaps not quite the man in the tale, but he was what she wanted. Someone to love her when she couldn’t even love her; anyone, at this point, to love her. 

This beauty was pointless if it didn’t bring her love.

Still, there was no way. She was simply too ugly, too horrid, to fake for anyone to love her. That princess in the fairy tale; she hadn’t been fake, her beauty was natural. And the prince fell in love with that beauty, something true rather than something fake. That, in the end, was the difference between her and that princess.

Under that beauty, there was an ugly, horrid monster with a tail.

She closed her eyes, ready to weep.

“Nagito?

She turned, surprised to see someone there.

The prince had sat next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to my tumblr: https://eve6262.tumblr.com/
> 
> I hope this wasn't too confusing. I was going to make this just the mermaid, but I ended up intertwining the two. Basically, the mermaid IS Nagito, but in a metaphorical sense; the prince IS Hajime, but in a metaphorical sense. The way her beauty is "fake" is saying that he's creating this persona, this facade that isn't really the truth, but something to become "beautiful." He doesn't think that hope is a god, for example, only "beautiful," yet if you asked, for example, Akane, she'd probably say he thinks hope (/Makoto) is a god.
> 
> ~Eve6262

**Author's Note:**

> So, now that you've read one of my works, I feel I should introduce myself. I am Eve, an aspiring writer, coder, RP-er, and I don't think I can draw but all my friends say I can. I'll be doing lots of (gay) Danganronpa stuff, as well as other fandoms. You may request things, but just know it's gonna take a while. I have a bunch of pending requests on Google+ (I know, I'm insane for using that as a writing platform), and I should really get them done first.
> 
> ~Eve6262


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